if the emperor watched tts, my version
by evtrax
Summary: basically the emperor and the primarchs reacting to Warhammer fanfiction, with an oc of my making. I gained express written consent from the authors of the fanfictions I have the imperial family watch, as well as one of the guys (if not the original author) who wrote the original if the emperor watched tts on spacebattles. rated t to be safe
1. intro

ever since I read the fiction if the emperor watched tts, I have had an idea for my own version. its basically the same, with the enperor, but i added my own OC. he's based off of me in persenality. i will do the actual story soon but first i want to describe my OC. this thread is crossposted on spacebattles

the tech priest

this tech preist is the emperors personal aid. His name is unknown, no legends will be sung of him. he has chosen to stay in the shadows of the greats. he is knowledgeable about earth, with only malcador and the emperor himself being more knowledgeable. he is like malacador in that he can speak freely to the emperor and the primarchs (though he is respectful). he is actually a tech priest from before the age of strife, having survived the uprising of the men of iron and hid, so he knows the omnisiiah is just a metaphor for knowldge, and this plus his understanding of the emperors pop culture references endeared the tech priest to the emperor. his memory cannot be erased or deleted.

he looks like a typical tech preist, with no flesh showing. he records everything, and also has the funny vomit ice cube thing from doctor who (episode the long game) he sounds like soundwave from his apperances in the series transformers: robots in disguise. also like soundwave he would rather die than betray his master, in this case the emperor. he's always around no matter how far in time it is. this is standard for tech priests, after all Cawl was around in the great crusade and come the 42nd milienium he's still alive and well. story will come soon.

his doctrine is the Omnissian Rationalist, which rejects the existance of the omnissah altogether. he is the only one. this was inspired by brotherhood of the lost

heres the clip of soundwave you should use as the tech priests voice. soundwave is the one autotuned. I do not in any way own the transformers franchise or anything within it.

ok, I forgot that fanfiction dosent allow copying, so search soundwave robots in disguise and watch the one labeled Steeljaw and Soundwave scene.

I have been given permission by the people who write the fanfictions I have the characters react to, plus the consent of the person (or one of the group who writes said fic, I don't know the exact things) who wrote the original emperor watching tts thread over on spacebattles. for all fictions I use to have the characters react to I have gained express written consent to use them. I do not own the fictions or anything of the Warhammer 40,000 universe, the only thing I own is my OC tech priest, and even then a lot of him is inspired by soundwave of the transformers franchise, and the name of his subsect comes from the brotherhood of the lost, and the idea of a tech priest reacting comes from the thread if astartes watched tts, located both here and on spacebattles. I might have had the idea for the sect before them, but maybe I read it and forgot about it. I am making a grand total of $0.00 off of this fiction. I hope that clears that up.

also, I will post links to where the fiction I use is located. if I miss somewhere it is likely that I either forgot it was there or I didn't know it was there.

now some headcanon of mine (which I will keep thinking even if GW directly contradicts it) that applies to this fiction.

in the dark millennium books when guiliman meets the emperor it is said that the emperor viewed the primarchs as nothing more than tools. he is played as a sociopath, but that dosent really make sense to me. if he was an unfeeling being how could he have a favorite son (horus) or a best friend (malcador). no, I belive that emps is a feeling human, a flawed man and a bit of a hypocrite, but he had a heart. As for why he is so cold in the 42nd century, I take inspiration from the fiction titled the shape of the nightmare to come. in this even more grimdark fiction set in the 50th milienium, in the chapter concerning the rise of the star father, it says that the emperor was driven mad by his time upon the throne. he was tortured, trapped in his own rotting corpse and his soul split asunder, powering the astronomicon and forcibly feeding on a thousand psykers each day. he was forced to watch as his imperium became everything he didn't want. instead of a secular imperium it was a cult to him, instead of a haven of learning ritual and superstition became the way of the imperium, with innovation being considered heresy. he was forced to watch and listen to every atrocity, every mother crying for there childs salvation, every soldier dieing so far from home for a few feet of useless ground, and hear every prayer to him. he went insane, I don't think anyone could stay sane while enduring that. I don't want to meet the being who could stay sane while enduring that. all of his goodness and empathy was destroyed by this, and I think by the time alica dominia (founder of the sisters of battle, I might be misspelling her last name) he became a cold heartless being who only cared about his goals being achived. he would still suffer, but his mind had been broken in such a way that it couldn't be fixed.

as for the emperors hate of religion, well he has never seen a divity that was good and has only seen the dark side of religion. for his opinion on xenos, he is indifferent if they submit to humanity. on the council of nikea and his banning of psykers in the astartes, he sees that magnus will head down the path of sorcery if he continues.

on magnus being a cyclops he has a lost eye, instead of only having one eye.

finally, on the topic of rune priests and Fenris psykers. GW has revealed that russ was right about the Fenris world spirit, but I don't like that. Russ's hypocrisy is a big part of his character, and I don't like that the differences are real. it nullify's the hatred between russ and magnus, and I just don't like it. so I will always consider rune priests psykers and russ a hypocrite for thinking otherwise.


	2. that which must not be

this story was made by Zahariel. I got this version from spacebattles, but its also on fanfiction.

threads/warhammer-40k-what-if-the-emperor-became-a-chaos-god.517195/

s/10773805/20/Warhammer-40000-Short-Stories

* * *

Lorgar looked upon one of the files of possible futures, trying to choose the one he wanted to play during this ritual the emperor and the primarchs had started. every so often they would come together on the emperors flag ship and review these records of possible futures. it was a family bonding time, but it also helped them to avoid what would happened should there course be changed. His eyes rested upon a file marked "rise of the eternal tyrant", something about it made him want to watch it. He picked it up and gave it to the tech priest, "Play this one." The tech priest nodded and said in his strangely melodical autotuned voice, "As you command lord Lorgar." Lorgar settled in his throne and the family (and the tech priest) began to watch.

**That Which Must Not Be**

the tech priest noted, "That sounds ominous". The family made noises of agreement.

**The end should have come from the outside.**

Horus morosely noted, "it should, but it never does." The emperor put his arm around Horus in a display of fatherly affection.

**That was the way it should have been. If Mankind was to die, if the Imperium was to fall and darkness rule, it should have been after a desperate, heroic last stand, with the defenders of Humanity standing against their myriad foes until the very last of them had fallen. Maybe it would have been the Orks who finally brought us down, like they nearly did during the War of the Beast. Or perhaps it would have been the Tyranids, devouring all in their path until the last survivors banded together on the last planet to fight against the ravenous Swarm. Or the dynasties of the Necrons, roused from their aeons-old slumber to find a galaxy transformed, driven to madness by their fleshless existence, would have decided to wipe us out using their ancient, incomprehensible technology. Greater of all those threats was the Archenemy, the Primordial Annihilator : Chaos, with its numberless hordes of Neverborn and the hosts of the Lost and the Damned within the Eye of Terror. Before the end, I had spent my entire life fighting against its corruption, and my nights were haunted by visions of the galaxy falling its eternal madness.**

Rogal, in his usual blunt way of speaking, "It would seem the writer of this record is an inquisitor of some sort." the emperor, who had put his arm back on his throne, said, "THAT MUCH IS OBVIOUS."

**It does not matter which enemy would have brought us down – what matter is _how. _The greatest empire ever created by our species should have had an end worthy of its ten thousand years of existence. But such was not the case. The end of the Imperium was not glorious, but ignominious. And Mankind did not vanish into oblivion in a bright flame, but has instead become ... _something _else. As everything around me fell into darkness, I searched for the truth, to at least know how things had come to such a terrible end. To my eternal regret, I have succeeded. This, then, is the tale of how the Imperium ended. This is how Humanity fell. This is how the Emperor died.**

the eyes of the emperor widened and he and his sons all let out a single word, "WHAT?!" in shock the tech priest paused the feed. Lorgar suddenly felt guilty and said, "Father, I swear I had no idea that this would be in this file." The emperor looked understanding and said, "I KNOW YOU DIDNT, LETS JUST WATCH THE FEED. TECH PRIEST." the tech priest pushed a button on his right chest plate and played one of the many sound bites he had recorded. it played a strange mechanical voice, differet from his own and it said, "Rodger Rodger."

**It began with a simple misfortune, an accident of chance. As the mechanisms of the Golden Throne had failed more and more in the Dark Millennium, the Mechanicus had grown desperate for any way to repair the life-sustaining machine that housed the Omnissiah's mortal envelope. They reached out to the lords of Commoragh, in whose vaults is held technology leftover from the Eldar's golden age. They sought to bargain, to gain that which they needed to preserve their god. But they failed. The whimsical Dark Eldars betrayed them, and forsook the bargain that had been made. The tech-priests and their skitarii escorts were slaughtered, their cries of despair feeding their betrayers even as the pain of their lacking flesh could not.**

Ferrus sighed and said, "once again the mechanicum proves itself idiotic."

**If the Kabalites had known what the consequences would be, would they have acted any differently ? Only the Gods can know. The Dark Eldar are – or at least were – notorious for their cruelty and lack of foresight, preferring immediate gratification over greater, later rewards. In this, as in all things safe for their diminishing power, they are the heirs of the Eldar Empire's folly.**

the tech priest noted, "Given what we have learned of the dark eldar, they wouldn't have acted differently. if one were put in an analyzers it would say..." he pressed his play button and a third mechanical voice, different from his own and the one he had played mere moments before, it said, "30% mean guy, 20% spiteful monster, 50% evil butt-head. Sample is... 100% big jerk".

**Without the components needed to repair it, the Golden Throne failed. Perhaps ten thousand years ago, we would have had the knowledge necessary to salvage it, but so much has been lost in the passing millennia. Mankind has slowly fallen from its peak, and though there have been many who fought valiantly in its name, many who helped it rise again after centuries of downward stagnation, it was all in vain in the end. It was inevitable that this slow downfall would eventually accelerate toward a catastrophic end – but no one thought it would end like this ...**

**The Golden Throne failed. The Emperor died. His body, sustained for a hundred centuries by the energies of the Golden Throne and an endless tithe of sacrificial psykers, finally succumbed to the injuries inflicted upon it by the Arch-Traitor, Horus. With this, the final anchor of the God-Emperor to His time as a mortal being was lost. The last part of Him that remained in some way connected to Humanity ceased to be. All that remained was the power gathered in His name. Trillions of souls, praying to Him for salvation during ten thousand years. Millennia of holy wars that left billions dead in their wake, of monuments that bankrupted cities and left their people starving while looking at their golden statues. All of that, in dedication to … what, exactly ? What were the ideals the Imperial Creed professed ? What were the tenets of its faith, once you look past the pomp and the self-serving words of fat preachers ? It is surprisingly difficult for me to remember them now …**

The emperor crushed the handrests of his throne and growled out, "GREAT. I BECOME ONE OF THOSE REALITY TUMORS!"

**But alas, no matter how I try to forget, they are still etched in my mind. The Imperial Creed preaches that Mankind is divine because the Emperor is. That the stars are our by divine mandate, that we are meant to be conquerors of the galaxy in service to the Master of Mankind. That all that we are comes from Him, and that we are all inferior to Him. That He is Lord and Master to all of us, and that we exist only because of His protection. That He wants us to hate the mutant, the alien and the heretic, and obey the command of our superiors without question or doubt. When the Emperor died, the God-Emperor was born from all of these thoughts, all of these ideals, all of these beliefs. The god the Imperium had been shaping for ten thousand years suddenly became real, and He looked upon us with eyes that knew nothing of mercy as He judged us according to the impossible standards we had set up for ourselves in order to contain the corruption threatening us all.**

**The New God, the Master of Mankind, the Lord of Light, the Golden King, the Eternal Tyrant – all those names and more were claimed by the ascended psychic construct born of ten thousand years of oppression and ruthlessness. But beyond those titles, there is no name that has revealed itself to its followers, no single word that encapsulate the terrible nature of that new power. It may be that, as the Emperor Himself was nameless, so too must the God born of His death be known only by the titles bestowed upon Him by the galaxy's inhabitants. Or maybe He is too young yet, and no true identity has emerged from the mass of contradicting beliefs and thoughts that created Him.**

**Then, all humans – not just those who lived under the Imperium's aegis, but also the descendants of long-lost colonists and the heretics who make up the Lost and the Damned – heard the same word, a same compulsion booming through their very souls :**

_****SUBMIT ****_

the room was silent, all were shocked by the fact that the emperor had become a creature that was a perversion of everything he held dear. it was also shocking at how similar the voice of the eternal tyrant sounded to that of the emperor.

**Most of those who heard the word of the Eternal Tyrant died, their brains failing to comprehend the enormity of what had just happened, their souls torn from their flesh and fed to the New God. Of those who survived, many were reduced to hollow shells of the people they had been – barely sentient, repeating the same actions day after day, without end. They are still there, on those silent worlds, trapped in an eternal cycle entirely devoid of meaning, denied even the cold release of death as long as their actions serve the Tyrant through their repetition. The Lost and the Damned fared better, though even they were crippled unto their very souls by the rise of the Lord of Light.**

Lorgar murmed fearfully, "I never wanted this to happen."

**With the Golden Throne's catastrophic failure, the Astronomican winked out of existence, casting millions of starships off their path, lost in the Warp. Many fell to the depredations of daemons, or to the judgement of newborn angels. Other emerged thousands of light-years away from their intended destinations. More still linger in the Empyrean, perhaps to be released in centuries or millennia to come – but what galaxy will they find when they arrive, I wonder ?**

**Terra was the first world to burn in the fires of the new god's wrath. A trillion souls were stripped of their flesh, turned into an eternal chorus of praises for the Master of Mankind. Their identities were burned away in the fires of His ascension, their memories and dreams and hopes and fears annihilated. Those with stronger minds and greater souls, like the Custodians of the Imperial Palace, the Space Marines of the Imperial Fists, and some of the oldest Inquisitors, retained some of their past selves, becoming spirits of holy fire and divine retribution, angels to join the court of the new god. The birth-world of Mankind was dragged into the Sea of Souls, which was also aflame with war. A new side had appeared in the Great Game of Chaos, and it was just as hostile toward Khorne, Nurgle, Slaanesh and Tzeentch as they were against each other.**

many primarchs, rogal and Perturabo among them, shed tears for the fate of mankinds homeworld. the others, the emperor amongst this group, were fuming, enraged that this reality tumor dared to defile the home of humanity.

**From the Throneworld, a Warp Storm rose, consuming nearly all of Segmentum Solar before its advance stopped at last. This storm – which still rages now, and likely will until the end of time – is as great and powerful as the Eye of Terror itself, and within it the will of the Golden King rules supreme. There the souls of the dead are trapped in endless worship, gathered in the trillions around physic-defying monuments to the glory of the Lord of Light. But the influence of the New God wasn't limited to this single region of the galaxy – it was everywhere someone paid fealty to the Golden Throne. As the Eldar before us, Mankind was reforged into the fires of our creation's ascension, becoming instruments of its twisted designs, perverted reflections of the transcendence Mankind had craved for so long.**

the tech priest attempted to make a joke, "so I guess that makes this storm the eye of terra." he played a rimshot, but none of the others laughed, glared or even reacted, so transfixed were they to what was playing.

**Across the galaxy, cathedrals and other places of devotion erupted in golden flames that spread ever outward, engulfing entire hive-cities. Those who were caught in these blasts suffered the same fate as the people on Terra, becoming yet more singing echoes for the choir of the Master of Mankind. The tombs of ancient Saints cracked open, the preserved remnants contained within restored to a cruel parody of life by the power of the New God and the prayers of generations of pilgrims. Avatars of the Golden King, they are the leaders of the abomination that has risen from the Imperium's corpse, directing the legions of the Lord of Light into battle against His rivals. There are thousands of them, and while their power varies depending on the nature and importance of their legend, all of them wield might equal to that of the Greater Daemons who serve the Chaos Gods – or should I write, the _other _Chaos Gods ?**

Lorgar murmed, "I didn't want this."

**Astropaths and psyker soul-bound to the Emperor suffered greatly. The hatred of the witch, so ingrained within Imperial dogma, seared their spirits, their connection to the Golden King suddenly filled with His power, rather than the lingering memory of His torment upon the Golden Throne. They became mere vectors of His power, hovering in the air, their bodies wasted by the divine energies coursing through them. In the ranks of the Golden King's armies, they are little more than living weapons, subservient to the will of their commanders, unable to think on their own.**

**The Black Ships' wards were overcharged by the New God's ascension, and the dread vessels of the Astra Telepathica have become nightmare fleets, who bring utter ruin wherever they go. The psykers contained within their holds have been transformed into every fear Mankind has ever held about the witch, and the presence of the Black Ships causes these nightmares to become real upon the afflicted worlds. Ghastly, skeletal figures reach out from the heavens, taking away those who have sinned against the Eternal Tyrant, to some horrible fate best not contemplated.**

mortarion shuddered, "Not even witches deserve that fate."

**Entire fleets and armies were transformed by the ascension of the Lord of Light, becoming faceless masses of soldiers made as much of physical matter as they were of aetherical energy. The armies of the Imperial Guard were almost all consumed, save for those who held to their own values and principles rather than blind devotion to the Imperial Creed. I have seen what has become of these faithful soldiers : corpse-like troopers, their skin held tight around their bones, their muscles wasted away yet their strength undiminished. They require neither sustenance nor rest, and are driven forward by the commands of their officers, who themselves are no more than echoes of their former ranks. Even when slain, they soon rise again, their bodies repairing themselves – though the marks of each death remain visible, turning the once loyal soldier ever more horrible to look upon.**

Angron growled in hatred, not even the dead were safe from this high-rider.

**The Heroes of the Imperium, living or dead, were transformed as well, but they retained some manner of individuality. However, consumed by the power of their glory, they became puppets of the New God. Their names are many : Ibram Gaunt, Sebastian Yarrick, Ursarkar Creed, Ciaphas Cain … They and countless others succumbed to the power of the shadow their reputations cast into the Sea of Souls. If the Saints are the Greater Daemons of the New God, they are His Daemon Princes, inheritors of His power at the cost of their soul. We know them as the Bright Lords, and they have left a trail of ashes across the stars.**

Lion was outraged, "That is no way to treat heroes!"

**The Inquisition, ever divided by faction politics, was torn to pieces by the rise of the Eternal Tyrant. Most Inquisitors shared the fate of Mankind's masses, but those of exceptional will or power survived. A very few have become Bright Lords, such as Torquemada Coteaz or Fyodor Karamazov. The others have become avatars of the fear the Imperium's population has felt toward the Holy Ordos ever since their creation by Malcador. They are wraith-like angels of judgement, wandering the realm of the New God and searching those among His servants who retain some individuality for any sign of deviation from His grand design. They are known to us as the Hierophants, and they surround themselves with the enslaved forms of their transformed Acolytes.**

Robute quietly said, "How dare these things taint Malcador's legacy." the room went up in agreement.

**Some Radical Inquisitors have also managed to escape nearly unscathed, and they pursue their own agendas still, even as the forces of the Golden King pursue them, directed by what Karamazov has become. I have heard rumours that on the world of Sancour, the infamous rogue Gregor Eisenhorn has retained his humanity, and works toward uncovering the forgotten name of the Emperor Himself – perhaps this name will be that of the New God as well, and maybe this name will become His weakness. Others, like myself, seek only to survive in this insane reality.**

the emperor murmed, "WE CAN ONLY HOPE."

**The Space Marines, who through their gene-seed were linked to the Emperor, went extinct upon the awakening of the New God. In their place rose the Angels of Death, incarnations of the might the Astartes have been famed for in the millennia of the Imperium's existence. Like the Rubric Marines of the treacherous Fifteenth Legion, their flesh was consumed and their armor sealed, their spirit trapped within, reduced to an echo of who they had been. The mightiest among them, those whose names were known beyond the ranks of their battle-brothers and celebrated throughout the Imperium, became Bright Lords themselves, though by some strange, unexplained quirk of fate, the dead heroes of the loyal Chapters remained undisturbed in their graves. Do the spirits of these heroes refuse to return from beyond the veil to serve the Golden King, seeing Him for what He truly is ? Certainly this is true of the Primarchs, such as Guilliman or the Lion, who remain unchanged in their mausoleums even as their sons are remade in the image of the New God.**

Magnus was horrorfied, "The rubric has been enforced upon all legions."

**Only two Chapters of Space Marines were spared this horrible fate, though only to fall victim to one just as horrible instead. The Space Wolves and the Salamanders, who of all the Astartes were closest to humanity, were driven mad by the compulsions coming from the New God. They and their few successor Chapters devolved into vulpine beasts and great drakes, and waged war against the minions of the Golden King, refusing to submit to His cold, uncaring rule.**

vulkan and russ shuddered, with vulkan noting, "And we are apparently the lucky ones!"

**Of Titan, home of the noble Grey Knights, I have heard nothing. The reports of my last agents in the Sol system, before the last of them was wiped out by the Angels, told me that the moon has vanished from Saturne's orbit. No sign of it has been seen since – nor have the Grey Knights deployed throughout the galaxy given any sign of their presence. Yet they haven't been seen among the ranks of the Golden King's legions either. In my most deluded moments, I tell myself that the last gift of the Emperor – the _true _Emperor – to Mankind might just still hold the seeds of hope for our species … but it is nothing more than a delusion.**

the emperor shook his head and intoned, "THERE MUST BE HOPE."

**Once the horrific, galaxy-wide transfiguration was over, the war began. Driven by the fathomless will of the New God, the angelic legions launched a galaxy-wide campaign against the enemies of the Eternal Tyrant. A Bright Lord claiming to be Macharius was at the forefront of this conquest, though I refuse to believe that this is truly what has become of the greatest Warmaster of the Imperium's history. Many others Bright Lords rallied to this new Crusade, lords of their own armies, equal beneath the gaze of the New God.**

Rogal noted, "That probably is Macharius." none responded to this

**Worlds that had not been consumed by the awakening of the New God were invaded, one by one. Many welcomed the angelic armies with open arms, believing that salvation had come at last – but they were wrong. The humans who had not been subsumed into the Golden King's psychic construct were ruthlessly purged, only the purest and most innocent left alive to be added to the choirs of worshippers. As word of the atrocities was spread by desperate survivors fleeing ahead of the golden armadas, planets began to prepare to resist, but their forces were crushed by the combined might of the angelic legions and the treachery of too many of their own, who were blinded by the light and failed to see the death it promised.**

vulkan weeped at the fate of the innocent, and Konrad curze said, "This is not justice."

**In the Eye of Terror, Abaddon the Despoiler watched all this unfold with, I like to think, something like terror in his dark soul. The Bright Lord Creed had become led an assault through the Cadian Gate and into the Eye of terror itself, bringing war to the servants of the Dark Gods in their own unholy realm. The Traitor Legions, long divided by internal rivalries, banded together before this common threat. Those whose Primarchs had ascended into the Great Game of Chaos united beneath their gene-sires, who returned from their ethereal pursuits and led their sons to war once more. The Night Lords were united by one calling himself Decimus, Prophet of the Eighth Legion. And the Alpha Legion, most elusive and mysterious of all Traitor Legions, has seemingly vanished once more into the mists of history, though I do not doubt that they will return some day, to the woe of whoever they have marked as their enemy.**

alarphius/omegon said, "We would never serve this monster!"

**As the purge of the human worlds ended, more and more armies were sent by the Lord of Light into the Great Eye. The Black Legion drew to it all manner of renegades, and Abaddon led the Lost and the Damned in the war against the Golden King. At his side, Iskandar Khayon, once a son of Magnus, now known as Khayon the Black, lord of the Ezekarion, leads the daemonic armies that have allied themselves with the Black Legion. Powerful pacts bind the hordes of the Neverborn to his will as they fight against tides of angels. Time and death themselves became mutable, and those who had fallen on both sides were risen again to fight once more.**

**The Maelstrom has fallen, conquered by the angelic legions. Huron Blackheart, lord of the Red Corsairs, was forced into flight, and bent knee before Abaddon in return for a place in the Black Legion. Now he is but one lord among many, but his pride has been broken by the loss of his piratical empire, and all he seeks is survival.**

**Ahriman continues his quest for the Black Library, hoping now to find within its halls the means of destroying the Eternal Tyrant. It is possible that the Harlequins, who hide in the darkest corners of the Webway lest they be destroyed, fear the Golden King enough that when the Sorcerer reaches the gates of the Black Library, they will welcome him in rather than fight to keep him out. But I think we have enough gods in this galaxy already – enough beings of unfathomable power that cannot be slain. We thought the God-Emperor would deliver us, and see where it led us – what could make us think another player in the Great Game could be any better ?**

Magnus sadly said, "hopefully my son will succeed in this quest."

**Lucius the Eternal, Kharn the Betrayer and Typhus the Traveller have returned to their Legions, fighting at the side of their respective Primarch against the armies of the New God. And Fabius Bile, the Clonemaster, has turned his dark and twisted genius toward war once more, creating hordes of malformed clones and vat-grown Legionaries to fight. Yet all the time, he has not lost sight of his own goal, and seeks to resurrect Mankind from the ashes leftover by the New God's ascension – though what form will it take should he succeed is unknown.**

**Cypher, Lord of the Fallen, seems to have gone mad with grief. He leads the Fallen Dark Angels and whoever will join him in a bloody rampage across the galaxy, wielding the great sword that spent so many centuries untouched on his back. Every servant of the Lord of Light it slays remains dead, denied resurrection through some unknown sorcery. Cypher himself seems to be immortal, rising from the dead each time he is defeated, and vanishing from every cell he is thrown in. The Angels of Death that the Unforgiven have become hunt for him, though their ancient fortress, the Rock, is no more – shattered to pieces during the rise of the Golden King in some apocalyptic conflict between unknown forces.**

**The Golden King has done the impossible : He has united the servants of Chaos, giving them a common purpose strong and urgent enough to surpass their instinctual distrust of one another. The War of the Eye rages on, and it shall likely rage forever. The Lord of Light is more powerful than any of the Dark Gods alone, and they are united against Him in a manner not seen since the Horus Heresy – and even then, there were conflicts and plots and betrayals, none of which seem to have happened so far among the gathered ranks of the Lost and the Damned. I wonder, do that name still apply to them, when they are those with the most humanity left in the galaxy ?**

the emperor was horrorfied, "CHAOS IS THE BEST SOLUTION FOR HUMANITY? THIS MUST NOT BE!' the tech priest said, "Yes my emperor, but you must admit that it is impressive. you are such a threat to them." the emperor didn't respond

**The Eldar, already on the brink of extinction, have been hunted down mercilessly. Only a handful of Craftworlds remain, and of them only Ulthwe stands any hope of enduring for more than a few years, thanks to the ceaseless guidance of their Seers. The Eternity Circuits of the Craftworlds that fell were shattered, the souls contained within fed to the pyre of the Golden King's power. In it, they found oblivion – a kinder fate than being prisoner of the Dark Prince for all eternity, but one from which there can be no return, no salvation. Ynnead, God of the Dead and last hope of the Eldar people, shall now never awaken.**

the emperor shook his head, "YNNEAD, THE HOPELESS DREAM OF MAD FOOLS."

**Without the protection of their Craftworld kin, the Exodite Eldar were slaughtered with impunity by the angelic legions, their World Spirits slain by Saints or Bright Lords, their Maiden Worlds transformed into barren wastelands standing as grim testaments of the Golden King's power. And in their Dark City of Commoragh, the Dark Eldar are starving, denied the abundant source of torment that Mankind was to them for so long – for now, the suffering of humanity only feeds the New God. The Kabals have turned against each other in open warfare, desperate to feast upon one another in order to delay their inescapable doom. Asdrubael Vect has vanished along with most of the Kabal of the Black Heart, doubtlessly to hide in some secret realm, hoping to outlive the end.**

vulkan said, "while I am glad the dark eldar are dieing, the cost is far too high."

**The Tyranid Swarm, unable to feast upon Warp-infused flesh, has been forced away from the worlds of the Imperium. Bright Lord Calgar leads the armada tasked with hunting down and eradicating the remaining Hive-fleets, a task likely to take centuries as the swarm has fragmented into hundreds of tendrils that have burrowed deep into the galaxy, seeking uninhabited worlds rich in biomass to consume. As for the Genestealers who hid among Mankind, they were wiped out by the rise of the New God, the very essence they had stolen turning against them in a spectacular fashion.**

**The deathless Necrons were the least affected by the birth of the Lord of Light, for they are without any connection to the Warp and cared little for Humanity. Their Tomb Worlds have isolated themselves, purging the surface from any trace of Mankind and setting massive fields that cut the planets off the Warp. Each of those worlds is watched by the agents of the Golden King, in case the Necrons ever decide to leave their exile and attempt to cleanse the galaxy once more. Many Tomb Worlds have fallen into civil war, their nobles divided between those who want to do just that and those who see the might of the Golden King and fear that their long-buried armies and weapons might not be enough.**

fulgrim spluttered, "Don't they realize a civil war will only weaken them!"

**The Tau Empire is no more, though the Tau species might just survive. Somehow, the Bright Lord Ciaphas Cain has done what I would have thought impossible, even unthinkable for one such as him, and forged an alliance with the Tau rebel commander known as Farsight. Together they tore a path through the Tau worlds, finally reaching and slaying the entire Ethereal Council. Farsight has now become leader of the Tau, and the species exists under a protectorate of the Bright Lord Cain, spared from the genocidal hatred of the other Lords by his influence. But the traitor humans who joined the Greater Good and survived the ascension of the New God were exterminated, Cain himself leading the purging squads sent into their districts in Tau cities. I know that a Hierophant has been sent to investigate this alliance, one that in mortal life shared a deep bond with Cain – perhaps the Bright Lord will be able to pass her inspection.**

Horus's eyes were wide, "A twisted employment of our new xenos policy."

**The Orks still fight, on thousands of worlds. They likely care little for the changes that have come to Mankind. The legions of the New God are just a new type of enemy to them, another foe against which they can test themselves and grow stronger. If anything, they might be disappointed that they can no longer eat their fallen foes – the immortal servants of the Eternal Tyrant make for dangerous meals. On Armageddon, Bright Lord Yarrick fights an endless war against Warboss Ghazghkull, an Ork who has grown so powerful through the conflict that he has been able to survive through several duels with the Bright Lord.**

**Such is the state of the galaxy now. Mankind lingers still, clinging to existence in the shadows or crushed under the weight of the God-Emperor's gaze. But our numbers are dwindling, for the god we created hunts us, His minions seeking all those who refused to submit to His will. Even as I write these words within my fortress in the Halo Stars, I know my time is running out. My agents have sent me reports of a ship searching the region, bearing the colors of the Ultramarines Chapter. They will find this place soon – but I am tired of running. When the Angels of Death descend upon this dead world and march toward my keep, I shall face them on the battlements, and fight until the end. It will not be glorious, for glory is now for the gods only. It shall not be useful, either – my defiance will make no difference at all. But I refuse to bow to the thing we created – this abominable god of ignorance and tyranny.**

**I will die as a man, not as a slave.**

Angron let out a "here, here!"

**'NO !' shouted Markus as he threw away the psychic crystal he had managed to secure from the hands of the heretical servants of the Changer of Ways.**

the emperor sighed and said, "OH THANK THE NON EXISTANT GODS, IT DIDNT HAPPEN!"

**The crystal crashed onto the ground of the cult's burning sanctuary, and shattered into thousands of shards. As it did so, the new, _false _memories lost some of their hold over the mind of Markus Terkarch. Yet still, the Inquisitor remembered the fall of the Imperium and the rise of ... of ... that _thing._ The lies of the corruption contained within the crystal were still vivid in his mind, as if he had actually lived through the heretical, _impossible _events. He was trembling, and he didn't even notice. His mind was reeling, desperately trying to understand the two different sets of memories it now had of the last years, to distinguish between what the reality around him really was and the lies the infernal relic had put into his brain, crashing past his mental defences with incredible ease. This hadn't happened. This had, this _would _never happen !**

**'The God-Emperor lives,' muttered the Inquisitor. 'The God-Emperor lives ...'**

**But despite the repeated prayer – the repeated _truth_ – Markus couldn't help but hear the laughter of the Dark Gods in the distance. It was a mocking laughter, that taunted Markus with the horror of what he now remembered, what would now haunt him for the rest of his life. And yet … Markus felt that he could hear something else in that laughter, beyond the scorn and the mockery. Something like … fear ?**

**It seemed that even to the Dark Gods, the thing the Emperor could become was something to be feared – something that, no matter what, must not be.**

as the video ended the last line struck a cord with everyone. the primarchs all made oaths of moment to prevent this future from ever coming to be. the emperor was in shocked silence, and the tech priest just waited for the dread in his soul to pass.

* * *

author note: I will now bold the actuall fiction so its less confusing.


	3. prince of the eye part one

this is made by zahariel and is found on spacebattles and on .

s/13366753/1/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/

* * *

horus chose this video, stating that he was curious about its content.

**The Dark Gods were meeting in the Warp, in a place where none of them had walked in many ages of the galaxy. They gathered in the ruins of what had once been a grand Realm, but was now nothing more than the echoes of faded glories that had never been. They met in the monument of their greatest victory, a triumph so absolute there wasn't a single soul in the universe who knew it had even happened. Even the mightiest of their daemonic choirs did not know about this place, and the Gods themselves only remembered it when it was required that they do so.**

the emperor and magnus let out a near identical questioning hmm

**Cunning Tzeentch was the first to arrive, for it had been him who had called this meeting. He was a raging inferno the size of a world, a vortex of many-hued flames into which a thousand thousand faces could be glimpsed, screaming and laughing and weeping and crying out one of the universe's secret for every million lies. The flames were shaped like a pillar, atop which stood a head similar in form to that of a bird, but with teeth made of broken minds and eyes that burned with all the images of a better world that had ever been dreamt by a genocidal tyrant.**

corvis sulked, remembering the tech guilds and there so called good aims.

**Then came Khorne, in all his blood-soaked glory. He was clad in armor of brass and iron forged in the iconography of skulls, and his horned head was that of a wolf, teeth dripping with ichor. Weapons hung from his belt, an infinity of them – every tool of murder that had ever been created or ever would be, from the sharpened rock that had been used to bash in the skull of the first human murder victim to a bomb that had extinguished an entire Sector during the War in Heavens. Khorne's flesh was skinless, crimson and raw, with white bone showing under the muscles.**

angron fumed upon seeing the creature he would have served. it was the ultimate high-rider, so cruel and bloodthirsty.

**Nurgle, God of Life and Death, Plaguefather and enemy of Tzeentch, was the next to huddle his enormous mass in. He was much like his disciples across a million worlds imagined him : bloated with fat, cancers and rot, a behemoth of greenish skin and yellow bones, bile flowing from tears in his belly. Great horns rose from his head, like those of a stag, but brittle and diseased, as if the slightest breeze could break them. A cloud of flies hovered above his head like a black halo, and he was gnawing on a piece of meat that had once been the ecosystem of an entire planet.**

mortarion was physically sicked by the thing he and his legion would have served.

**Finally, Slaanesh, the Dark Prince of Excess, arrived, dancing and leaping over the ruins of a kingdom that had been dead long before the Eldars had dreamed their doom into existence, yet with which the Profligate One still remembered warring aeons ago. She was as beautiful and terrible as he ever was, a vision from the greatest and darkest dreams of every species that had ever known desire. He was the Lord of Pain and Pleasure, the Great Corruptor, and her sight would have broken the heart of any human (and any who beheld what it truly looked like would have had their soul shattered also, for it was more monstrous than any of its older siblings).**

the tech priest commented, "say what you will about the chaos gods, they are very cool looking." the emperor was the first to agree.

**The Primordial Pantheon of Chaos met in the ruined kingdom of their dead, nameless brother-that-never-was, and three of them looked upon Tzeentch, who had called them here, invoking accords and pacts that had been forged in the first days of the universe.**

the emperor whispered the name of the neverwas chaos god, "MALAL."

**(This isn't what happened, of course. The Dark Gods do not speak with one another, because they do not speak at all, nor do they have bodies or appearances, and they certainly do not make pacts with one another, nor were they present at the beginning of the universe. They are creatures of madness and raw energy, primordial concepts of existence given names, meaning and agency by the dreams of mortals desperate to impose some form of order upon the unspeakable Chaos that has dwelled at the heart of the Sea of Souls since the catastrophic ending of the War in Heavens, sixty millions years ago. And yet, it still happened, and they still do and are all these things that cannot possibly be true, for every metaphor is made reality in the Empyrean, and the Ruinous Powers are still bound by what few laws of this dimension their very existence does not break.)**

fulgrim groaned and uttered, "that's making my head hurt."

**'I thank you all for coming,' said Tzeentch (and again, these weren't words that were exchanged, but rather concepts and information on a divine scale – yet it also was words, at the same time).**

the tech priest murmured in binary, "This is getting very meta."

**'Right now, our champion, Horus, has gathered all of his forces to him, and has begun his final advance toward Terra. There, as we have decided, he shall confront the Anathema, and destroy his mortal body, condemning him to imprisonment within the Throne of Dust. The Sacrificed King has already destroyed the Anathema's plan to bend the Webway to his purpose. Now, he will remove the possibility of the Anathema coming up with a new way of denying us our ultimate victory by silencing him and binding him to Terra.'**

horus look downcast at this, the knowledge of his fall still haunting him. the emperor shot him a loving look, conveying that he didn't really blame horus.

**'And our champion will die in that confrontation, as was ordained as well, for Horus has proved that he will not willingly bend the knee to us and usher in our great triumph. He would seek to claim his father's crown for himself, and in his pride he would see the galaxy purged of life rather than allow us our final victory. That is why he will perish, and the Long War shall begin as he breathes his last. That is our grand plan, the one we all agreed upon when we scattered the Anathema's sons across the stars. There have been alterations to it made here and there, where our personal goals demanded it, but we have clung to this overarching design. But, my brothers … we have been deceived. The Anathema has played us for fools. He knew of our plans to turn his sons against him, and he planned around us.'**

the emperor was curious, and he murmured, "HE CAN'T MEAN THE LEGIONS, SO WHAT DOES HE MEAN?"

**'With the Anathema trapped in the Throne of Dust, our truce, such as it is, will be ended. We will turn upon each other, and for ten thousand years our followers will make war. All the while, the Anathema will feed on the faith of his Imperium, until the day the Throne of Dust finally breaks, succumbing to entropy and the terrible power coursing through it. On that day, our hordes will pour forth from our realm, mortals and immortals alike, and wage the final war for dominion over the galaxy … or so we thought. But, brothers, we have been deceived.'**

magnus, was curious, tzeench was the embodiment of lies and deception. what could possibly decive him?

**'For when the Anathema's mortal vessel perishes, the blind worship of trillions will pour unrestrained into his ascended spirit. He will be as we are, unbound by the covenants and fuelled by the blind worship of trillions of souls across the galaxy. Terra will burn in golden fire, and the Eternal Tyrant will rise with his legions of angels, transfiguring Mankind into something beyond our ability to influence.'**

"WHAT!" the emperor roared.

**As Tzeentch spoke, he sent images to the other Dark Gods, showing them what that future would look like. He showed them the Angels of Death, reforged into vengeful, fiery wraiths of destruction. He showed them the numberless hosts of the Astra Militarum, made undying and uncaring by the power of their God. He showed them the clockwork children of the Mechanicus and their great machines, driven to endless perfection by the beating of the Eternal Tyrant's heart. He showed them their servants hunted down by the reborn heroes of the Imperium, transformed into vessels of divine power, and how they would be forced back into the Eye of Terror, where the Long War would turn into one of survival. And they all agreed that this future must not be.**

Rogal stated, "They must think that your ascention to godhood is part of your plan." The tech priest snarked, "as ever lord rogal you are a master of the obvious."

**'We must change our plans for the Long War that will follow the end of the rebellion,' declared Tzeentch. 'I see two options that would prevent this future from coming to pass. One is to empower Horus enough that he will destroy the Anathema completely. But this is likely to fail, and even should it succeed, then we will face the same problems that led us to arrange our Warmaster's defeat in the first place. The second option is that we must wage the Long War not through conquest and destruction, hardening the faith of Mankind in their dead god with every blow, but through temptation and corruption. We must destroy the faith of Mankind so that the Eternal Tyrant cannot be born – or if it is, it must be weak enough that we can defeat it in the Great Game.'**

the tech priest noted, "that is logical. given what we know of the eternal tyrant, it was blind faith driven by eternal fear of chaos. if chaos is presented as preferable then it wont give the tyrant any power."

**'Fortunately,' and Tzeentch's countless mouths were smiling now, 'we have one champion who has proven more than capable at this task. A champion whose charisma has turned half the Imperium against itself, doing more to spread our influence upon Mankind in a handful of years than even Lorgar could in half a century. And it would be the easiest thing for us all to arrange for that individual to remain able to oppose the Anathema throughout the coming ages. Do you see of whom I speak, my brothers ?'**

**'You are talking about letting Horus survive the first stage of the Long War,' said Slaanesh.**

**'Yes,' nodded Tzeentch, the motion sending ripples amidst his flaming manifestation. 'We will need to work together for this to go well – there are many factors at play that guarantee our Sacrificed King will live up to his name. I believe he is the one most suited to ensure that the vision I just shared with you do not come to pass. And in addition, it would even mean that we kept the spirit of our word to him : his rebellion would be the only thing preventing his father from becoming a god.'**

horus and the emperor were wide eyed at this.

**There was much discussion after that, as the Dark Gods arranged the details of this new accord. They spoke of old grudges and potential futures, of the balance between them and how it may be broken anew. Even as they discussed a solution to a threat to all of them, it was in their nature to each seek to use the opportunity to secure their own supremacy over the others. But they had already come to an agreement, as Tzeentch had known they would. All that remained was to hammer the plan's finer details – which of course, in the long run, would prove the most important.**

**The discussion lasted an age, and also less than an instant. A new accord was reached, and the Dark Gods departed, to set in motion the events required to forge the new path they had agreed upon. Commands were issued to the hosts of the Neverborn, and the strings of mortal puppets were pulled, that the course of Fate, which had seemingly been set in stone, may be shifted once more.**

the video ended, and alpharius/omegon said, "Lets watch the next one."


	4. prince of the eye part two

this is the second chapter of Zahariel's fanfiction the prince of the eye, on spacebattles and

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/#post-59219488

s/13366753/2/Prince-of-the-Eye

the tech priest, at the insistence of Alpharius/Omegon, played the next chapter of the file titled Prince of the eye.

**The Siege of Terra**

**And so, the Siege of Terra began. For several weeks, the Traitor Legions and their allies hurled themselves at the walls of the Imperial Palace, and the Emperor's Children rampaged across the surface of the Throneworld, inflicting unspeakable horrors upon the population that the defenders of the Imperium had abandoned to focus on the Palace's protection.**

Fulgrim was disgusted by the actions of his traitorous sons, and Ferrus comforted him.

**On and on went the slaughter, Dorn's defenses proving a match for the Traitors' onslaught. The sun rose and fell behind clouds of dust and ash, and though millions died with every passing hour, the renegades were no closer to breaching the walls of the Imperial Palace and claiming victory. Eventually, astropaths on both sides of the conflict (those who hadn't been driven mad by the turmoil in the Warp as the Warmaster unleashed unspeakable horrors upon the Throneworld) began to hear a new distant voice in the chorus of wails : the echoes of the Ultramarines and the Dark Angels, whose fleets had long been delayed by trickery and strategy, about to reach Terra at last.**

Roboute looked slightly smug, and Angron whispered, "Imperium Secundus." This immediately deflated him.

**Yet the Imperial commanders withheld these news from their soldiers, save for a few leaders, for they believed that the defense of the Palace was only holding on by a thread, and that hope, in these circumstances, would be a deadly poison. Warriors who think they have nothing to lose fight harder than those who still hold the hope that they might survive the day after all. Similarly, among the traitors, Horus made sure to prevent knowledge of the approach of the First and Thirteenth Legion from spreading : his hold onto the forces under his banner was already fragile enough as it was. But the key players of the field knew, and that was enough.**

The tech priest looked confused and asked, "How would the lack of hope make people fight harder. The treacherous counterpart to Lord Horus I can understand trying to prevent the knowledge from spreading, but why would the imperials not want hope?" No one answered him, either because they themselves didn't know or they wanted to prevent the crushing despair that the answer would bring to those who didn't know.

**In truth, for all that the Dark Gods' decision would alter the fate of the entire galaxy, the change that set it all in motion was a relatively small one. All it took was for the Four to bend their great power together in order to make sure that, when Horus, in a last gamble for victory, lowered the shields of the Vengeful Spirit and let his father board his flagship, the Warmaster did not cross the path of his brother, Sanguinius.**

**It was not an easy change. Sanguinius' doom at Horus' hands had long been written, witnessed and accepted by the Angel himself (though the Primarch was determined to make his death count, and his enemies pay for each drop of his blood). There was much resistance to this alteration of the plan, and powers that had been old before the Dark Gods had risen from the Warp's chaotic tides stood against them now, for they feared Sanguinius more than any of his brothers, still haunted by memories of Mankind's first tentative reaches toward the divine. The Dark Gods feared Sanguinius too : it was why they had gone to such lengths to corrupt him, and kill him when that had failed. But now they feared the golden shadow of the Eternal Tyrant more, and the old powers could not resist them for long.**

Horus and Sanguinius both looked at each other guiltily.

**And so Sanguinius wandered the corridors of the Vengeful Spirit, seeking the bridge and his fated confrontation with his brother. But the ship's interior twisted and changed around him, turning him around and around, and all his power and will could not break him free. Sons of Horus were guided toward him, and he slaughtered them all, for despite the wounds he had sustained defeating the daemon Ka'Bhanda, the Angel was more than a match for any number of Astartes.**

**Even the gifts bestowed by the Ruinous Powers upon some of the most worthy (or most foolish) sons of the Warmaster were not enough. Only Horus could kill him, for the Dark Gods had not unwritten his demise at the hands of their champion : they had merely delayed it, pushed it back in the distant future. Even they did not know what the full consequences of such an act would be. Perhaps Kairos Fateweaver, the Oracle of Tzeentch, knew, as it knew most things past and future. But since the gathering of the Four in the ruined palace of their unborn brother, all the Oracle had done was laugh in the Court of its master, its two heads shrieking and gasping endlessly.**

The Emperor looked slightly worried at the fact that Kairos only laughed, and Russ said, "So the dark gods have twisted the Wyrds of my brothers in these timelines. That makes me sick." And supprisingly, Magnus agreed with him.

**While the Angel was kept away from his doom by the machinations of the Dark Gods, the Emperor tore a path toward the bridge of the ship, seeking His treacherous progeny. Nothing the armies of the Arch-Traitor threw at Him could hurt Him, but one by one, the Custodes and Imperial Fists who had accompanied Him in the assault fell or were separated from Him. And so, when He finally faced Horus on the bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, the Master of Mankind was alone. What words they exchanged, if any, were lost to posterity. And what did words mean, after seven years of a war that had set the galaxy ablaze and left trillions dead ?**

Corvus mutterdly gloomily, "Indeed."

**In a single moment, the Talon of Horus pierced through the Emperor's heart, and His sword cut through the Warmaster's armor and deep into his flesh. Father and son fell to the deck, their blood mingling onto the metal floor, the vitae igniting where the psychically charged blood of the Emperor met the Chaos-tainted blood of His son.**

**As the Sons of Horus watched in horrified silence as their father fell, an old, human man appeared on the bridge, emerging from the shadows. He was named Ollanius Persson, and he had come far to be here – but it seemed that he had been too late. He could have struck Horus down there and then : the Warmaster was bleeding, unconscious, and Persson was far more dangerous than he appeared. But if he did that, then the Space Marines in the room would kill him, and the Emperor would die too, and the consequences of that were too grave to dwell upon. So he did the only thing he could think of : he hauled the Master of Mankind's dying form onto his shoulders (for despite all His power, in the end, the Emperor's body was only that of a man) and vanished again, cutting a hole into reality with a blade he had taken from a dead Word Bearer on distant Calth.**

Magnus noted, "Another point of difference."

**Sanguinius felt his father's and brother's fall and the former's disappearance from the ship and sudden reappearance on the surface of Terra, and he knew that he had failed : somehow his doom had been adverted, at a terrible cost. The Angel screamed in impotent rage, and the echoes of his fury would haunt the corridors of the Vengeful Spirit forevermore, spawning winged, black wraiths that would prey upon the ship's crew and leave them drained of blood.**

Angron looked at the angel of baal with a slight respect, he respected might and fury and the fact that in one timeline his brother had managed to permenantly afflict a traitors ship with shadow wraiths that killed traitors made Sanguinius worthy of some admiration in his mind.

**The Primarch of the Blood Angels calmed quickly, however, and immediately began to make his way out of the ship. He called to the rest of his sons and the other loyalists scattered across the vessel, and they came together, fighting their way toward one of the flight deck, where they seized a handful of gunships (there were few enough of them left that they didn't need many of them) and flew out of the Vengeful Spirit, broadcasting identity codes to ensure they weren't shut down by Imperial guns. They flew straight for the Imperial Palace, where Sanguinius could sense the quickly fading presence of his father.**

**Meanwhile, aboard the Vengeful Spirit, the anarchy was almost total. Horus still lived, but he had been grievously injured, even more severely than when Russ had struck him with his accursed Spear. Back then, it had taken Maloghurst's strange ritual to rouse the Primarch; this wound was even deeper, but at least there didn't appear to be any sorcery attached to it : merely the raw, burning power of the Emperor's blade. They rushed their master to the nearest Apothecarion, but a few cooler heads remembered that the First and Thirteenth Legions would soon be here. With Horus incapacitated, there was no one who could unify the renegade Legions and finish the war before the arrival of Guilliman and the Lion.**

**So they ran. The surviving members of the Mournival called all of their brothers and support troops on the surface to withdraw, sending messages to the other Legions and rebel forces to do the same. They didn't wait to see if they were obeyed, nor did they listen to the outraged replies of their allies. The Sons of Horus made for the edge of the system, and as they did so, the psykers among them received a vision : they saw that their father could be healed, if they took him to the Eye of Terror. Considering the reports coming from the Apothecarion, that was about the only hope the Sixteenth Legion had, and so they set course for the Occulis Terribilis. Piece by piece, the rest of the traitor armada broke off from the Siege, their entire formation collapsing without any grace. Thousands of Traitor Marines and millions of human soldiers perished who could have lived if the retreat had proceeded in good order.**

Horus looked slightly disgusted and asked, "Why do my sons keep trying to revive me despite my horrible deeds?" The Emperor looked at Horus and answered, "THE BOND BETWEEN FATHER AND SON IS VERY STRONG."

**As the traitors fled, Dorn found the old man carrying his father's bleeding body. Ollanius vanished before the Praetorian could say or do anything, and Dorn brought the Emperor to the Golden Throne, where the dust that had been Malcador the Sigillite still sat, undisturbed. In desperation, he placed the Master of Mankind's dying form upon the Throne, and activated the stasis field, trapping his father between life and death and connecting Him to the great psychic fire of the Astronomican.**

The Emperor looked sad, and Curze said, "It seems that certain things happen in most timelines." Rogal intoned, "Indeed."

**Elsewhere in the Sol system, the moon of Saturn that held the first of the Grey Knights returned to the normal flow of time, and the warriors within the stronghold, who had spent subjective decades learning all the lore left to them by Malcador and mastering their new abilities, immediately sensed that something had gone horribly wrong in their absence. Their orders demanded that they kept themselves concealed even from the loyal Primarchs, but they sent agents to learn what had transpired in their absence, while consulting their tools of divination to learn more.**

**And then, at last, Kairos stopped laughing, and vanished from the Court of Change, gone to perform its craft of deception and scheming elsewhere. The two-headed Daemon Lord went into the Eye of Terror, to a world that was yet nameless. With a gesture, it shaped the earth into a citadel, and sat upon a throne at the heart of that citadel. Then it waited, knowing what must come next.**

As the video ended the Emperor looked slightly pale and murmured, "OH NO."


	5. prince of the eye part three

this was made by Zahirel on spacebattles and fanfiction.

s/13366753/3/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-2#post-59246842

The Emperor had outright ordered the tech priest to continue the holovids, which shocked many in the room, wondering what could make there father worried.

**On Terra, the Angel wept bitter tears before his father's throne, and the surviving Primarchs who had kept to their oaths gathered amidst the ruins of the Throneworld. They spoke, briefly, before leaving once more – for there was much to be done. Guilliman, Dorn, Jaghatai, Sanguinius and Russ were set on pursuing the traitors and finishing them, while Lion El'Jonson wanted to return to his homeworld of Caliban, having been taunted by daemons with the knowledge that something terrible was transpiring there in his absence.**

Lion looked slightly downcast and muttered, "Why is my home always corrupted?"

**Some among the Primarchs – Russ first among them – questioned the Lion's motivations, suspicious of his desire to leave after arriving only at the last hour of the Siege. But Sanguinius and Guilliman appeased the Wolf King, telling him that they knew where Lion El'Jonson and his Dark Angels had fought during the Heresy, and that while they were sworn not to discuss it (for to do so would, inevitably, have led to the revelation of the shame that was the Unremembered Empire), the First Legion's loyalty was not in question.**

Guilliman was ashamed at the mention of the Imperium Secundus, but was glad his counterpart helped his brother.

**At Sanguinius' demand, Vulkan alone remained on Terra, to help rebuild the Throneworld as well as to guard against any new attack from the Traitor Legions. Those few Salamanders who had survived the Heresy rallied around their Primarch, rejoicing at the discover of his resurrection, and put aside their weapons to become builders, for a time. Traumatized as they were by the depredations of the Emperor's Children, the people of Terra were now terrified of the Space Marines, seeing them as inhuman giants with no care for the lives of mere mortals – only the Eighteenth Legion was regarded differently, thanks to its warriors' selfless acts of devotion and self-sacrifice during the Siege. The charcoal-skinned, red-eyed sons of Nocturne were nearly as adored as the Angel, Sanguinius himself, was – though the Primarch of the Ninth Legion would be the first to argue that, unlike him, whom the Imperium loved for his beauty, Vulkan and his sons had truly earned the respect and adoration of the Terrans. The Salamanders were determined not to show themselves unworthy of that faith, and set themselves to the task of rebuilding.**

Vulkan had no prideful look or boastful words at this, for he was sorrowful that the citizens of Terra feared the defenders of humanity so.

**While the loyal Legions set upon their assigned tasks, aided by the remnants of the once-mighty Imperial warmachine, the Traitor Legions fled from the wrath of the empire they had betrayed. Their flight was far from ordered : with Horus still suspended between life and death, the horde of the Warmaster broke apart, a thousand warlords and more staking their claim upon the blood-soaked Imperium. Mortal, Astartes, or other, these lords of war sought to build their own kingdom upon the ashes of the Heresy. But the loyal Legions and their allies were stronger, and over the course of the great war that would come to be known as the Scouring, they hunted each of these fell dominions and destroyed them, one by one.**

Jagathai was thoughtful at this, "Truly the greastest weakness of Chaos is its own divisive nature."

**The corrupted forge-worlds of the Dark Mechanicum were obliterated, the very memory of their location scourged from the archives by the data-priests, that their heresy against the Machine-God be never repeated. Systems ruled by the iron hand of Horus-sworn tyrants were freed from their masters, before the population was inspected by the newly-founded Inquisition for signs of corruption. And the worlds that were truly lost, having succumbed to the pull of Chaos and become infested with the Neverborn, were burned to ash and less than ash, banishing the daemons. Yet the true prey of the Space Marines was their own, treacherous brethren, who were also the ones who inflicted the greatest wounds upon the Imperium in those days of bitter, desperate fighting.**

**The World Eaters rampaged on dozens of worlds, driven by the voice of Khorne to slaughter billions in a vain attempt to ease the pain of the Butcher's Nails. They left in their wake a trail of burned-out husks before they were caught by the loyalists, and the survivors were forced into a shameful retreat that drove them into the Eye of Terror. If there was any pity left in the hearts of the loyal Legions for their renegade kin, then perhaps it was the sons of Angron who inspired it, for they were perhaps the only ones of the Chaos Marines who suffered more than their victims did.**

Angron was outraged at the dogs his legion had become, savages seeking only blood.

**The Emperor's Children had been among the first to flee when Horus had fallen, their ships' hulls full of billions of captives taken from Terran megacities. Their fleets scattered through the void, though all heard the call of the Youngest God drawing them toward the Eye of Terror, the place where it had been born of the Eldar's folly. Fulgrim stayed behind, however, laying an ambush for his brother Guilliman. But again the plans of a Daemon Primarch were foiled, as Sanguinius joined his brother in their hunt aboard the Pride of the Emperor. Together, the Angel and the Avenging Son destroyed the incarnated form of the White Naga, banishing Fulgrim's spirit to the Empyrean.**

Fulgrim looked sick at what his legion had become.

**Mortarion and his Death Guard were the last to retreat from the fields of Terra, but the Daemon Primarch and his Plague Marines were also the first to set course toward the Eye. The voice of Nurgle pulled the Lord of Death to abandon the Materium and seek refuge within the Realm of the Gods. And so it was that the Fourteenth Legion remained one of the few to stay united as it fled from Terra and into the waiting arms of the Ruinous Powers, its hierarchy intact.**

Mortarion also looked sick at what his legion had become, but unlike Fulgrim, who was sickened by the cowardace and perversions, it was pure physical disgust on the part of Mortarion.

**Perturabo alone managed to turn the tables of the loyalists. The Lord of Iron laid down a trap for his old rival, Rogal Dorn, and trapped him within his Iron Cage, a fortress designed to bleed the Imperial Fists Legion dry. The blood and gene-seed of thousands of Seventh Legion warriors earned Perturabo the gift of daemonhood, though he was ultimately forced to flee when Sanguinius came to deliver Dorn from the Daemon Primarch's cruel labyrinth. Even after receiving the blessing of the Dark Gods, Perturabo feared Sanguinius' power, and his decision was later proven right.**

Perturabo's stony mask broke with a strange mix between pride and shame. He was proud he had humiliated Dorn, but was ashamed at the form said shaming took.

**Using their sorcery, the Thousand Sons retreated to their new homeworld in the Eye of Terror, arriving well ahead of the other Traitor Legions. The sons of Magnus had joined the Siege for their own reasons, and the rebels' failure was now forcing them to reconsider their options as the plague of flesh-change spread ever further among their ranks. A long-hidden secret had also been revealed to them : that it was Horus, not the Emperor, who had ordered the destruction of Prospero, altering the orders of the Space Wolves from capture to extermination. Though Magnus' choice to join Horus had been driven by other considerations, many of his sons had hungered for vengeance, and they were shocked by this sudden revelation, left wondering what path to take now.**

Horus looked to his brother and said, "Magnus, I" Magnus interrupted him, "I know you aren't to blame for my world's destruction in these possible futures." He then glared at Russ, who he did blame.

**As the Crimson King dwelled in his Tower, pondering his options, he was blind to the treachery of one of his own. With the help of a cabal of like-minded Sorcerers, Ahzek Ahriman performed a great ritual to halt the spread of the flesh-change. He succeeded, but the Rubric, as the ritual came to be known, also destroyed the immense majority of the Legion, turning the warriors without psychic powers into dust trapped within their armor, their spirit reduced to a mere spark that could be commanded by their still-living brothers. Ahzek was banished from the Planet of the Sorcerers along with his cohorts, left to wander the Eye until they regained their Primarch's favor.**

As the video ended the Emperor commanded, "PLAY THE NEXT ONE!" The tech priest responded with a slightly fearful, "Yes my Emperor."


	6. prince of the eye part four

this is part four of the Prince of the Eye by Zahariel

s/13366753/4/Prince-of-the-Eye 

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-2#post-59276041

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As the techpriest scurried to heed the Emperors command, Sanguinius asked him a question, "Father, why are you so worried?" The Emperor sighed and said, "I AM WORRIED ABOUT HORUS'S COUNTERPART, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO HIM AND I AM SCARED FOR HIM. I WOULD BE WORRIED FOR ANY OF MY SONS, BUT, WELL." The Emperor trailed off, and the primarchs didn't press for details, knowing how the Emperor favored Horus.

**Rebirth in the Eye of the Gods**

**Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, the Sons of Horus were growing increasingly desperate. For the third time in the Legion's history, their Primarch was dying, and it seemed there was nothing they could do. Then the Sorcerers came to their commanders, and told them that the Dark Gods had spoken to them : Horus would survive, if they brought him to their realm. Taking command of the Legion, First Captain Abaddon ordered that the course be set for the Eye of Terror. Entering the Eye was difficult, for the Sons of Horus had never had the need to visit it, but they managed to survive its tides, though they had to force the Navigators to pass through the Cadian Gate. Once the tides receeded, they found themselves orbiting a strange world, where the Sorcerers told them something was waiting for them. The single structure on the planet was a citadel, which looked like something a child might have built out of sand after seeing a few strongholds but without understanding them.**

Horus looked slightly ill and commented, "Why do I think that's the world where my body was interred?" Rogal bluntly stated, "Because it probably is." The Emperor was tired of Rogal's bluntness at this point and said, "PERTERABO, I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SMACK ROGAL WHEN HE ANNOYS US BY TAKING THINGS TOO LITERALLY." Perturabo smiled and the tech priest played a clip, "it was said his heart grew three sizes that day."

**The Sons of Horus brought their father to the fortress, its gates opening of their own accord as they approached. The deeper in they went, the more disturbing their surroundings became, as the normality of the fortress' exterior started to reflect the madness of the realm in which the Traitor Marines now dwelled. By the time they reached the throneroom, where Kairos Fateweaver waited for them, the Astartes were carrying their father's stasis sarcophagus through what seemed to be the inside of a living thing, with the walls pulsating in rhythm to distant heartbeats and gears of silver and bronze turning amidst the flesh.**

The room hushed now, awaiting what would happen.

**He wanted to scream, but he couldn't.**

**He was frozen within a single moment of agony, the wound on his side burning through his very soul with the fire of his father's blade. There was no change in the pain : it never grew nor diminished, and he never grew used to it. He couldn't think, because his brain was suspended in stasis along with his body, but his soul still felt an eternity of pain.**

The tech priest played a different clip, "I have no mouth and I must scream."

**Finally, the pain receded, though it would never leave him completely. He opened his eyes, and saw a great two-headed humanoid bird tower above him, looking at him with malice and amusement in its black, beady eyes. There was blood dripping from its beaks, transhuman red.**

**'Awaken, Prince of the Eye,' said one of the heads. 'It is time to claim your destiny.'**

**'Awaken, Sacrificed King,' said the other. 'It is time to break the chains of your fate.'**

The Emperor buried his face in his hands and motioned to the tech priest, who understood that gesture. Fulgrim was concerned and asked, "Father, what does that daemon mean?" The tech priest spoke up, "The Emperor is currently experiencing some despair, so I field questions directed to him. As for what that feathered fiend means Lord Fulgrim, while it supposedly speaks one truth and one lie, what those two statements say essentially mean the same thing." Lorgar asked what the whole room was thinking, "What are those two possibility's?" The tech priest let out a musical sigh and explained, "If the first head was speaking the truth then this was always the plan, and Horus's counterpart is still the puppet of the dark gods." The tech priest let this sink in and then continued, "if the second head was speaking the truth then Horus has done the impossible, as is typical for Primarchs, and has endured what was meant to happen. He was fattened up like a lamb for the slaughter yet survived the full might of the Emperors god-like power, and has stopped being the puppet, and now he pulls the strings." This possibility was also dark and the tech priest stated the simple conclusion of both of these possibilitys, "But either way the might of the true Warmaster is arrayed against the Imperium. He will probably have to reunite the legions, but he will succeed. Simply put, the Imperium is in for a lot of trouble." He then played the video, letting the story continue.

**Only four Sons of Horus entered the throneroom, carrying Horus' sarcophagus with them. For several hours, they remained secluded with the Daemon Lord, the warriors gathered outside growing more and more impatient. Then the gates opened, and Horus Lupercal strode out, flanked by only two of the four warriors who had carried him inside : Ezekyle Abaddon and Falkus Kibre. Of the two other warriors, there was no trace to be seen, anymore than there was of Kairos.**

Lorgar, now possesing a hatred of the dark gods equal to his true father the Emperor, stated simply, "Of course a fragment of a reality tumor would need a sacrifice." The Emperor looked at Lorgar with pride.

**Horus had been healed, Kairos calling upon the power of Chaos that still dwelled within the Warmaster to undo the damage inflicted by the Emperor's sword – or so it seemed at first. In truth, though Horus was up and walking, and seemed completely healed, the wound was still raw, threatening to tear open with every move. The Master of Mankind had struck Horus on his flank, opposite to where Russ had struck him with the Spear given to him by their father months ago. That wound had nearly killed him, and this one had been a magnitude of order worse. Under his repaired armor, Horus was still bleeding, still in pain, though he made sure not to show it to his sons.**

Horus looked relived and said, "At least my corrupted counterpart has a weakness. Maybe the Imperium will survive."

**They left the false fortress, which collapsed right after they exited it. There Horus adressed his sons, who had all come down to the daemon world, awaiting news of their father. Their great rebellion, for which they had thrown away everything they had ever been and believed in, had failed : now more than ever, they needed the First Primarch to speak to them, to tell them what they would do in this strange realm where they now found themselves. Thousands of Legionaries stood at attention, roaring their joy as their Primarch emerged from the fortress, seemingly restored.**

**In one hand, Horus held Worldbreaker, while the other was clad in the Talon of Horus, still red with the Emperor's own vitae. The Warmaster raised the claws up for all to see the bloody evidence of his deeds, and began to speak. He told them of how he had faced his father aboard the Vengeful Spirit, how he had been struck down at the same time he had dealt a mortal blow to the tyrant, and how he had been healed by the interventions of the Warp-dwelling Powers with which they had allied themselves against the False Emperor.**

This made Horus, and all the other primarchs who would have turned traitor had they not seen these videos, looked slightly sick at the speech of the warmasters counterpart.

**He told them how they could not return to the galaxy right now : his loyalist brothers, blind to their father's true nature, would destroy them if they did. They needed to rebuild first, here in this realm where the Imperials could not follow. Though the rebels had been defeated, they had achieved their primary goal, the great cause for which they had turned against the Emperor in the first place : the self-proclaimed Master of Mankind was dead, and His plans to enslave Humanity in order to achieve godhood were dust. He reminded them of how, when he had first made the choice to rebel, he had asked them what they would be willing to sacrifice to accomplish that goal.**

Now the loyalist primarchs looked sick, knowing that they would do what Horus claimed they would and that the Emperor of that universe was dead and his Imperium was in ash.

**Horus spoke of the wonders they would find and create, of the glory they would earn in the Eye, where the slaves of the False Emperor could not pursue them. He exposed to them his vision of a new empire, built free from the shackles of the False Emperor and His councils of petty bureaucrats. Let the leaderless Imperium believe them dead, or imprisoned within the madness of the Eye. Here they would rebuild, prepare, and when the time was right they would return to the galaxy and take the remains of the Imperium for their own. It would be a long and difficult journey, and there was no doubt that they would face many trials on the way, but the Warmaster promised to his sons that in the end, they would prevail. And they believed him, because they had nothing else left but him.**

The tech priest spoke next, "Yes there are wonders in Chaos, but like the wonder of a star going nova or a black hole it is suicide trying to get them."

**The reconstruction process would begin on this daemon world, which Horus named Maeleum. There the Sons of Horus built their great stronghold, Lupercalia, upon the very site of the false fortress where their Primarch had been healed. They experimented with the strange properties of the daemon world, discovering that a strong will could reshape its surroundings as it pleased – and no will was stronger than that of Horus. The Warmaster imposed his will upon Maeleum, creating a large river flowing from the heart of Lupercalia that could be used as water sources (though even Horus' will could not create clean water outright, and it had to be filtered and purified before being fit for consumption). Lesser strongholds were built as the Sons of Horus tightened their hold on the planet, each the domain of an officer of the Legion.**

Rogal spoke, "You were right Horus." And he was then given the first of many smacks by Perturabo.

**The tech-priests of the Dark Mechanicum aboard the Sixteenth Legion's fleet explored the system, discovering several areas rich in mineral resources, which they immediately set about exploiting in order to repair the battered ships of their Astartes masters. Space stations and orbital docks were constructed around Maeleum, while small flotillas were sent out to explore the Eye of Terror and locate the resources required to build the new empire. Horus gave another task to these warbands : they were to find if any of their allies had also made it to the Eye, and establish contact so that the great army that had laid siege to Terra might be forged anew.**

Corvus gloomily spoke, "And the tech priest was right in saying Horus would unite the Traitor Legions" The Emperor made another gesture at the Tech Priest, and he played the next holo vid.


	7. prince of the eye part five

this was made by Zahariel

s/13366753/5/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-3#post-59302738

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The tech priest played the next part of the video series, as the Emperor had recovered from the sorrow afflicting him, or at least enough to continue viewing.

**News eventually reached Maeleum that forces from other Legions had been discovered. Elements of the Third and Twelfth Legions had been sighted by the exploring warbands, wandering the outer regions of the Eye. It was difficult to get precise numbers, but the scouts were confident that thousands of Legionaries had arrived in the Eye, scattered by the currents of the Warp.**

Horus looked slightly worried, as did the Emperor,

**Immediately, Horus left Maeleum aboard the Vengeful Spirit, seeking to bring these wandering warriors under his banner. The growing domain of the Sons of Horus was left in the care of Abaddon, Horus' most trusted son. It would later transpire that the Warmaster had departed not a moment too soon, for when he found the Emperor's Children and the World Eaters, they were on the verge of doing what the Imperium had failed to accomplish : destroying each other for good.**

Fulgrim and Angron both started paying more attention to the screen.

**After arriving in the Eye, the forces of both Legions had slowly coalesced together, and had finally met in a system with a single world, one afflicted by violent nocturnal storms that not even Space Marines could survive. That world had been named Skalathrax by Khârn, Eighth Captain of the Twelfth Legion and Equerry to Angron, who was said to have died on Terra only to be resurrected by the God of War as the World Eaters left reality and entered the Eye of Terror.**

Fulgrim asked aloud, "Wasn't he called Kharn the betrayer?" The tech priest responded, "Yes he was, for the battle of Skalathrax when he turned on his own legion. But maybe he will be loyal to his primarch and legion like Abbadon is. We must wait and see."

**The reunion of the two Legions had been extremely tense, for though few warriors understood it yet, the Emperor's Children and the World Eaters belonged to opposing Ruinous Powers, and the contempt that had always existed between them was now simmering into hate. The Lord-Commander Eidolon, who led the Emperor's Children in Fulgrim's absence, had called for parley, and Khârn had accepted, proposing that the leaders of both hosts meet on the planet's surface.**

**Eidolon had intended to send an emissary rather than meet Khârn in person. However, the Eighth Captain saw through his intent, and made the Lord-Commander's presence a condition to the discussion. Amused that the brute had been able to anticipate him, Eidolon had accepted, though he had asked in return that Khârn only bring with him a far smaller escort than the one Eidolon would travel to Skalathrax with. Khârn, seemingly uncaring of the disrespect of the offer, had agreed.**

Angron noted, "It seems that this is proceeding much like it would have if we hadn't watched these files."

**'This is madness. You cannot mean to do this, Khârn. I have fifty warriors at my side ! What do you have ? A handful of blood-crazed barbarians ?'**

**'I have my axe. I have my fists. I have the Nails. That is more than enough.'**

**From the meeting of Khârn and Eidolon**

Fulgrim and Angron had a facial reaction best described as a strange mixture of pride and disgust over Kharns reply.

**The meeting degenerated into a slaughter, with Eidolon and Khârn being the only ones to walk away from it alive. This was no small feat for the World Eaters, given that they had been outnumbered ten to one at the meeting, and that the Lord-Commander had brought one of his pet daemons with him, a fiend known as Hedonarch and quite highly placed in the Dark Prince's choirs. Yet Khârn, wielding the axe Gorechild, had slaughtered the guards and entourage of Eidolon before forcing the Lord-Commander to flee for his life (though of course Eidolon told a different story to his men). The war began while the two lords were still in their transports, as the fleets activated the weapon arrays that had been kept dormant during the meeting as a gesture of good faith.**

**With the crews of both Legions still adapting their training to the impossible physics of the Eye of Terror, the war had to be taken planetside. Thousands of Space Marines, hundreds of thousands of mortals, and the accompanying tanks and artillery were brought on Skalathrax's surface. The Emperor's Children brought horrors of flesh from their unholy laboratories, and hordes of debased, mind-blasted cultists whose veins contained more drugs than blood. The sands of Skalathrax ran red, until the sun began to set, and the storms came, the temperature plummeting far below the point of freezing water. Only then did the battle end, as the forces of both Legions retreated, leaving the corpses of the dead to freeze where they had fallen.**

The sight of the monsters his legion had made nearly made Fulgrim vomit, and it did make Vulkan vomit.

**For six days, the pattern repeated itself. The Legions would fight from dawn till dusk, and withdraw once Skalathrax itself made further conflict impossible. Then, on the seventh day, Horus arrived. The Vengeful Spirit and her escorting fleet emerged at the system's edge, catching the fleets of the two Legions by surprise. The Warmaster saw what was happening as reports flooded in from the fleet's auspexes. He immediately understood what had occurred, and he was not pleased.**

**"Enough.**

**I will not allow this madness to continue.**

**We are banished from my father's kingdom, cast out by those we called brothers, because we sought to free Mankind from the manipulations of a tyrant. All of us joined this cause for our own reasons, and that is well, for freedom is what we fought for.**

**But this … this is a travesty, and I will not stand for it.**

**This ends. Now."**

**From the proclamation of Horus at the Battle of Skalathrax**

The room was stunned by the similarity of this proclamation to one Horus had made only a short while ago before they began viewing this video file, to a rebellious imperial planet.

**The sheer presence of Horus, and the might of the fleet that accompanied him, were enough to force a truce between the warring factions. Companies of Sons of Horus descended upon the battlefields of Skalathrax as dusk fell and the cold forced each side to retreat to their shelters. With the hand of the Warmaster guiding them, they effectively took hostage the forces on the daemon world, forcing the commanders of both armies to the negotiation table.**

**Both Khârn and Eidolon were summoned to the Vengeful Spirit, without any honor guard this time. They came to the strategium through separate corridors, escorted by black-clad Terminators of the Justaerin, and faced Horus' judgement in the same chamber where the Siege of Terra had been planned in the last days of the rebellion. Horus expressed his displeasure, and demanded that they explain themselves. The Lord-Commander waxed on, dramatically retelling how Khârn had breached the truce and attacked him and his escort, slaughtering them all with unthinking brutality – even turning on his own brothers once Eidolon had escaped. The son of Fulgrim delected in the situation – as a true devotee of the Dark Prince, every sensation was to be savored, and there were few feelings rarer than the wrath of the Warmaster. Eventually, his tale came to an end, and Horus asked Khârn to tell his side of the story, that he may weigh their testimonies with the evidence his Legion's investigators had already gathered. For several seconds, Khârn remained silent.**

The Emperor just made a made a motion that the tech priest understood to mean roughly, "Three. Two. One."

**Then he drew Gorechild, and leapt at Horus, the weapon raised, its dragon's teeth roaring with a thirst for blood it shared with its wielder. He moved with speed beyond mere transhuman abilities, but was still no match for Horus' reflexes. The Warmaster struck with Worldbreaker, the mace catching the World Eater mid-jump and sending him flying across the room. Most Astartes would have been dead, but Khârn rose, facing Horus in his anger. For a few seconds, the two of them stared at one another, with Eidolon witnessing the scene with baited breath. Then, Khârn turned and fled, killing every Son of Horus in his way before taking a gunship to the closest Twelfth Legion vessel and forcing its captain to depart Skalathrax while the confusion was still reigning.**

**In hindsight, it became clear that Khârn's flight had been facilitated by one of the Ruinous Powers – no matter how deadly the World Eater champion might be, escaping the Vengeful Spirit alone was something even Malcador's hand-picked agents hadn't been able to do during the rebellion. But, through a series of unlikely coincidences and the sheer brutality of the World Eater, Khârn managed to escape the Warmaster's wrath, departing through the storm toward some unknown destination.**

Angron looked very angry at the cowardly and berserk actions of his equerry.

**For this, the Eighth Captain of the World Eaters was named the Betrayer, a name that would follow him everywhere he went. But Khârn still had the favor of the Blood God, and many would seek to manipulate him to kill their enemies for them in the years to come – though more often than not, they ended up dead by his hand as well. Some would claim that Khârn had actually died on Terra, at the hands of the defenders of the Imperial Palace, and that his apparent resurrection had been a daemon's trick : nothing more than a disguised possession of a dead body. The motive for such an act varied depending on the teller : some said the daemon wanted to claim the World Eaters as its own, others that it wanted to destroy the Third Legion or the Twelfth, and others still thought it had all been a ploy in order to get close to Horus, just for the chance to strike at him with Gorechild, which was one of the few weapons that could still harm what the Warmaster had become. To most, however, these theories were nothing more than wishful thinking trying to justify a madman's act.**

Rogal merely stated, "It seems Kharn is still the betrayer." Perturabo once more hit Rogal.

**Despite Khârn's escape, the Battle of Skalathrax confirmed that the other rebel Legions were making their way toward the Eye of Terror. The World Eaters and the Emperor's Children both had Primarchs who had shed their last ties to mortality and ascended to daemonhood, and now Angron and Fulgrim were calling their sons to join them in the Eye, where they had been reborn following their dissolutions at Terra. Though the hatred between the two Legions was strong, Horus managed to force them both to follow his command for the time being by offering them the one thing they all desired : a chance to be reunited with their Primarchs. Horus was, after all, the Warmaster of Chaos, chosen by the Ruinous Powers to bring down the False Emperor.**

**Grudgingly, and with the Vengeful Spirit between them, the World Eaters and Emperor's Children accompanied Horus back to the dominion of the Sixteenth Legion. Skalathrax was abandoned, left to the ghosts of the thousands who had died for nothing on its surface – a testament to the self-destructive nature of the Dark Gods that would stand for thousands of years to come.**

The video ended on that note, and most of the room was struck by how similar the Imperium of the 41st mellinium and the forces of chaos really where.


	8. prince of the eye part six

this is made by Zahariel

s/13366753/5/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-3#post-59302738

* * *

The tech priest pulled up the next holo-vid in the series and said in his melodical voice, "Lord Curze, I belive you will find this next video very interesting." Konrad looked at the tech priest questioningly, "Why?" The tech priest explained, "It concerns what happens to you in this timeline." Konrad looked intrigued, and the Emperor said, "PLAY THE VIDEO", and the tech priest obeyed.

**Though most Traitor Legions fled to the Eye of Terror in the wake of their defeat at Terra, the Night Lords did not – at least, not immediately. Apart from the Alpha Legion, the Night Lords were the only Legion following Horus who had not wholly embraced Chaos, though that was more due to a lack of proper leadership for the Ruinous Powers to influence and manipulate than to any moral fiber the child-killers of Nostramo may possess. Of all the Traitor Legions, the Eighth had long been the most feared and despised, long before the Warmaster had raised the banner of rebellion.**

Konrad looked slightly pleased at his legions description, and the glares of the others caused whatever comment he had to die in his mouth.

**Scattered across the galaxy at the end of the Thramas Crusade and their Primarch's disappearance, the Night Lords had no unified chain of command. Only a portion of the Legion had taken part in the Siege of Terra, led by warlords who sought the glory of burning the Throneworld, or had thought to earn the Warmaster's favor by adding their forces to his. And when Horus fell at the Emperor's blade, they were all too quick to abandon the fight, retreating from the Solar system.**

The Emperor sighed and said, "THATS THE PROBLEM WHEN YOU RECRUIT FROM CRIMINALS, NO SENSE OF LOYALTY." The tech priest was reminded of the thunder warriors, but said nothing. Rogal was not so tactful however, "Didn't you recruit the Thunder Warriors mainly from criminals." Perturabo gave Rogal a dope slap, and the video continued.

**Fleeing from the retribution of the Imperials, these Night Lords eventually came together on Tsagualsa, which had once served as their stronghold during the Heresy. There they found their missing Primarch, Konrad Curze, waiting for them after his long absence, which had caused many of his sons to believe him dead. The Night Haunter, whose insanity had grown progressively worse during the rebellion, was now on the very edge of complete madness, as the future he had believed fixed had proved to be mutable after all. Sanguinius hadn't died on the Vengeful Spirit as both Konrad and the Angel had thought, had known he would, and the fragile edifice of justifications and twisted beliefs used by the Primarch to avoid facing the full extant of his sins was collapsing.**

The tech priest played a strange clip, with a voice that sounded like tombstones falling, "When you die the comforting lies one tells oneself are striped away. Usually its not so tramatic, but you are not usual."

**Despite their father's manifest instability and the doubts many of them had expressed about his leadership in the past, like broken dogs returning to an abusive master, the Night Lords once more bent the knee to their gene-sire. News of Curze's reappearance spread, and the scattered forces of the Eighth Legion gathered at Tsagualsa, leaving trails of traumatized worlds in their wake. There, in a brief moment of clarity, Curze commanded that his Legion immediately leave for the Eye of Terror. There, he told his sons, they would find Horus Lupercal, and the Warmaster would give him the answers he needed to decide on the Legion's future course.**

Magnus merely noted, "The power of precognition can be very damaging to those not able to handle it."

**With the Primarch's sanity still fluctuating wildly and the First Captain Sevatar missing, overall command of the Night Lords fell to a newly reunited Kyroptera. Those members of the exalted circle who had been elevated to it by Sevatar after the disastrous Thramas Crusade and had survived the following years of conflict formed the core of the group, complemented by other warlords who had proven their cunning and might (or who simply had too many warriors or resources under their command to ignore). Bound by the will of the Night Haunter, the Kyroptera made preparations for the Night Lords to abandon Tsagualsa and follow the rest of the Traitor Legions to the Eye.**

**Konrad Curze entered the Eye at the head of a fleet of tens of thousands of Legionaries, which was perhaps the largest single military force in the entire Eye of Terror, due to the dispersion of the other Traitor Legions. Only the Sons of Horus under the Warmaster could match the number of Astartes in the Night Haunter's great armada. But those numbers counted for little against the dangers of the Eye. Here, in the grave-birth of Slaanesh, reality was shaped by the sins and hidden desires of the living and the dead, and Konrad Curze's spirit blazed very bright indeed, though it was a pale and baleful light. The moment the Eighth Legion entered the Eye, it was beset by the manifestations of its Primarch's nightmares – abominable things spawned from his broken psyche.**

Konrad actually looked away from the video, not wanting to see the Daemons born of his sins. Fulgrim went over to comfort him.

**The Night Lords fought, led by their Captains and Lords, while the Primarch remained aboard his flagship, battling against the powers, the self-doubt and self-hatred that would see him and his Legion destroyed. Eventually, the nightmares relented, and the Eighth Legion found itself near a world orbiting a black, lightless star, that nonetheless radiated a baleful heat upon the daemon world. Upon that world were vast mountains of black mineral, which was bitterly familiar to the scanners of the Eighth Legion : adamantium, an entire world worth of it, far more than there had ever been on the Legion's lost homeworld of Nostramo.**

Rogal, still showing a lack of understanding of simple cause and effect, earned another dope slap by saying, "I think that planet is going to be the night lords new homeworld."

**Though the planet was cold and devoid of life, it was not uninhabited. Millions of pale humanoids wandered amidst the obsidian mountains : the souls of every criminal the Eighth Legion had ever slain, condemned to be reborn in a cruel un-life, their previous lives half-remembered, fit only to torment them with the knowledge that they had once been alive. A great number of these damned souls came from Nostramo, the world that the Night Lords had destroyed at the command of their Primarch, watching it burn and crack apart under the focused fire of their fleet. There were many more from all the worlds the Eighth Legion had brought to compliance and butchered during the rebellion, but out of all those the Night Lords had slaughtered, less than one in a hundred had been judged corrupt enough to be dragged from the Empyrean and cast upon this daemon world.**

The room was silent at this, for there were millions on this world, meaning the night lords had slaughtered hundreds of millions.

**As the Kyroptera wondered about the strangeness of this world, Konrad Curze emerged from his isolation. His cursed sight had granted him a vision : this unholy world held the key to his fate, if he would but descend upon it. At his command, the Night Lords descended upon the daemon world en masse, thousands of midnight-clad Legionaries falling from the Warp-torn heavens. The damned ran from them in terror, remembering the image of the bat-winged skull even through the shroud that laid upon their minds. For now, the Night Lords did not pursue : they followed their lord as he walked amidst the ragged, sharp edges of adamantium, seeking something, not knowing what.**

Konrad wanted to leave the room, but the Emperor bade him stay.

**Eventually, deep within a valley borded by high, black peaks, Konrad found the entrance to a cave. He bade his warriors wait for him outside, and descended into the heart of the daemon world. What he found there, none but the Dark Gods know, but when he returned, he was transfigured.**

The Emperor merely said, "Brace yourselfs my sons."

**'N-no ...'**

**'Yes.'**

**'It … it cannot be ...'**

**'It is. It must. It has always been.'**

**'But … vindication ...'**

**'Is a lie. Give in. Let go, Konrad. Let go of your regrets. Let go of your weakness. Become … what you know you must be.'**

**'Ah … aaaAAAAHHHAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !'**

This shocked the room, as the Konrad on the screen had been elevated to Daemonhood mid insane laugh.

**Gone was the wasting, melancholic figure of the madman whose grip on sanity had ever been slipping : Curze had embraced the evil that defined him in the eyes of the Imperium wholly. His hands were dripping in some black ichor that burned through the adamantium as it dripped. His skeletal-thin body was overflowing with the energies of the Warp, and for the first time he felt that the visions granted to him by his second sight were clear. He now knew what awaited him, what he had always been fated to : an eternity of judgment, punishing those who had sinned – and every soul in the galaxy was guilty in the eyes of the reforged Night Haunter. He could see his future and that of his sons, and it was glorious. His warriors, upon seeing him emerge from the cave, fell to their knees, shouting their devotion to their King of the Night, and Curze bathed in their worship, and smiled. It was the first time he had ever done so in response to his sons displaying their love and fear of him : perhaps that should have been a warning to the Night Lords of what was to come.**

The tech priest quoted a passage from an Eldar legend the Emperor had let him read, the tech priest being one of the few the Emperor trusted enough to learn of the project before the holovids were discovered. He played the quote, "And so for his horrible sins the God was cursed to forever bleed the blood of his victims from his hands."

**The Night Haunter named this world Kerlazium, which in Nostraman meant "Resurrection", and set his sons to the task of bringing punishment to the damned that inhabited it. They set to their work with great enthusiasm, for the cruelty that had been their hallmark during the Great Crusade and the Heresy that had followed had only grown since their entry into the realm of the Dark Gods. And the damned, while already dead, were incredibly resilient, able to withstand punishment that would have killed a hundred men before finally dissolving into mewling ectoplasm, all trace of their former identity erased by the tortures they had endured.**

**Soon, it was discovered that the damned, when tortured, produced a strange, crimson liquid, akin to blood but inbued with strange energies. Drinking that liquid provided a living being, be they mortal or Astartes, with a rush of sensation and strength, as well as healing wounds and serving as nourishment – the only sustenance that could be harvested on the cold, lifeless rock that was Kerlazium. The Night Lords began to harvest this liquid, which they named akhrali, and used it to fuel their own transhuman bodies and that of their mortal slaves. The Warp, with typical dark humor, had granted Curze's greatest wish : now, the torments he inflicted would serve a purpose.**

Konrad mere whispered, "That is not justice."

**With the labour of the damned, the sons of Konrad Curze built great palaces of pain, where millions of souls were subjected to unspeakable torments while the Night Lords themselves attended to the damned who deserved their personal attention for their sins. Whether there was any true justice in how the fate of the damned was decided, only the Dark Gods know.**

**The bulk of the damned were herded into the mines that exploited the adamantium, using the material to repair the Legion's damaged ships. The favored mortals of the Night Lords were allowed to build cities among the priceless black stone, protected from the depredations of their most degenerate masters by those who retained a modicum, if not of honor or compassion, then pragmatism. Under the leadership of Zso Sahaal, Talonmaster and First Captain of the Legion, those few warriors clinging to their sanity and the prospect of the Long War built a kingdom under the endless night. They traded the spoils of industry to the torturer clans, in exchange for the essence they needed to sustain themselves and their servants.**

**Curze built his own palace at the center of this kingdom, and the greatest monsters among the rest of his sons came to visit him and pay tribute, forcing the faithful of the Long War to witness first-hand the corruption that was seeping into their Legion – a corruption that originated from their Primarch, who had in the Eye become at last what he had always threatened to be. Yet their loyalty to the Night Haunter remained unshakeable, whether by devotion or dread.**

Konrad was the most troubled by this revealation.

**In time, Horus came to Kerlazium, drawn by the echoes of the Night Lords' atrocities. In the chambers of the Living Palace, built from the meshed flesh of slaves and damned alike, the Warmaster conferred with the Night Haunter, away from the eyes and ears of their sons. For an entire day, the two Primarchs spoke, and when they were done, Curze had agreed to take part in the Warmaster's next grand endeavour : a conclave, gathering all the exiled sons of the False Emperor, to discuss the War that must be waged against the Tyrant of Terra and His slaves.**

As the video ended Rogal stated, "That can't be good." earning a third slap from Perterabo.

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the tech priests quote about comforting lies is paraphrased from a fanfic that is a Warhammer discworld crossover.


	9. shape of the nightmare to come part one

this was made by lordlucan

Story:The Shape Of The Nightmare To Come 50k - 1d4chan

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The tech priest looked over the choices for his holovid, and pulled one out, then looked at its title with his optics widened. He attempted to slip it in his coat when he was grabbed by Corvis who said, "What do you have there tech-priest?" The tech priest let out a loud high pitched electronic screech in fear and the responded, "Don't do that." He paused and added, "Please." Corvis was distracted by the title of the holovid, "The Shape of The Nightmare to Come?" He then noted, "Sounds interesting."

After some futile arguments by the techpriest, the imperium family played the video.

**Overview of the Second Age of Strife**

The Emperor was worried, "SECOND AGE OF STRIFE?"

**in the grim darkness of 51st Millennium, the endless war continues.**  
**There was no great conflagration or calamitous final battle.**  
**Across the vastness of the galaxy, the Imperium died. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. The galactic empire of humanity crumbled, its enemies too many, too great and too terrible to imagine. The great conflict of Octavius had no victory, a war without end. In the fiery chasm of strife, the locust and the green holocaust fused, as beast looked upon barbarian and both saw the other as kin. The new entity spread with a speed undreamt of by Ork or Tyranid. War and hunger melded into a singular desire to ravage, rape and remake all in the image of the New Devourer.**

Alpharius/Omegon noted, "That was" "One of" "The few possible results" "Of Kryptman's gambit."

**The Devourer's hybrid nightmares were regenerative, and spore-born, combining into a grand horror which murdered the galaxy, leaving naught but fragments as it left. Metallic sentinels of unflinching dread rose up on some worlds, leaving them safe from the New Devourer Waaagh, but instead made them slaves to the silver sentinels, and fodder for their glowing metal gods.**

Magnus was worried now as well, "Oh no, not the Necrons."

**The Eldar race who had held onto life for so long, slowly winked out of existence, one Craftworld at a time. Eventually, even the rumbling hearts of the Avatars fell silent. For a time... In the dead Craftworlds, something slithers through the infinity circuit to this day. Unfortunately, the great god of the dead, Ynnead, is trapped within this infinity circuit, howling its mournful song into the darkness, eternally hungry in its desire to wreak vengeance on She Who Thirsts.**

Angron was slightly confused, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" No one answered.

**The Tau, naive in their hope of unity, expanded into a realm of corpses and ash. Every world they came across was dead. The hard and unpleasant task of terraforming each world turned the Tau into bitter, self-righteous beings. They were disgusted at the actions of their predecessors, and vowed to not understand their fellow races, but to purge them. Only the Tau could be trusted with worlds. They decided that all others must be cast out. Watching, their patron laughed his sardonic laugh as his puppets were twisted into terrors.**

Lion noted, "If the Eldar are the future and the Imperium is the present, the Tau are the past. Seems they have become the present."

**The Golden Throne finally failed. No-one knew for certain what happened to the Emperor. For once the throne fell, no vox or astropathic transmissions ever came from Terra again as warp storms engulfed the planet. The shattered remains of humanity had neither the power nor the will to return. All that is known is that the Astronomican died with the death of Terra, sputtering to nothing over the course of five hundred years. Eventually, the Imperium, its coherency lost by the splitting of its forces against the New Devourer and the sudden surge in warp storms, was shattered like glass. Chaotic cults stampeded through humanity, like electrical surges in an ancient power grid.**

Horus looked angry, but didn't speak.

**With the death of the Emperor, The Inquisition finally lost its facade of unity, and most died, killed by the more powerful within its once hallowed ranks. The greatest Inquisitor Lords seized whole systems for themselves, becoming feudal Kings and Regents. Uniting scattered mobs of their deadly fellows around them in order to wrestle power from local governors.**

Konrad looked disgusted, "Of course that will happen once they loose there holy writ."

**The church also shattered, becoming nothing more than a series of minor sectarian cults. All save Ophelia. The Adepta Sororitas withdrew from as many worlds as they could, and gathered around Ophelia and nearby systems. Ophelia became a vile charnel house for the Ecclesiarch, who had been driven insane by all he had seen. He gathered his Canonesses, Abbesses and Witchhunters together and put billions to the torch. Any system within range of short warp jumps (as navigators could no long make long jumps, due to the warp storms) of Ophelia were terrorized by the Imperial Church, who searched desperately for someone to blame for this nightmare.**

Lorgar was sorrowful, "I didn't want this to happen."

**It was said that in those days, a hundred thousand 'Petty Imperia' were created from the carved up corpse of the Imperium of Man. Each claimed legitimacy and claiming to be led by a leader chosen by the Emperor as he finally died. Some even claimed to be the Emperor reborn. Humanity, so scared in their huddled masses, believed this heresy without question, too afraid to imagine a universe without their father and protector.**

The entire room was saddened by that.

**The noble Space Marines fared little better. Most Chapters utterly disintegrated as their forces, who fought individual missions across the galaxy, found they could not return to their Chapter Masters. In the darkness and loneliness, many Marines chose the only path they knew: War. They became rogues and near bandits, pillaging Imperial worlds for the war effort as they would say in justification for their actions. It was said the White Scar and Raven Guard war bands were the worst, as they were so swift and ruthless in their pillaging.**

Kahn and Corax were both disgusted by the actions of there sons.

**The Black Templars retained the most of their original fervor, and merely continued their crusades. They became full worshipers of the God-Emperor, and High Marshall Dorstros declared a new and greater crusade - To destroy every human that did not submit to them and the God-Emperor, and purging everything and everyone else. Their zealotry blinded them to their own heresies, as more and leaderless Marines, desperate for orders and purpose, tagged alongside the Black Templars' crusade. Millions of rag tag former Imperial Guard and massive mobs of flagellating Imperial Cultists quickly joined the crusades' march across the stars. Soon, their depleted numbers, drained from the wars with the New Devourer, had nearly reached two thousand Astartes, representing the second largest single group of Imperial Marines still in existence (second only to Grand Sicarium). Yet, no matter how large their crusade got, the Templars were naught but a band of raving fanatics.**

Now it was Rogal's turn to be disgusted.

**Ultramar was renamed Grand Sicarium, under their new ruler, Cato Sicarius. His realm became a holy site for the other Ultramarine successors. Their fractured remnants gathering around Ultramar like a swarm of flies. Sicarius declared himself High King, decreeing that those under his protection should worship him as the god he was. Sicarius became the ruler of his own little empire, the angelic Marines and ordinary mortals under his decree became his worshipers. Upon Macragge itself, the fortress of obsidian was crafted; the heads of Agemman and Calgar were stuck upon great steel pikes. A grim demonstration of Sicarius' desire to rule all. Ultramar became a darker place in those centuries.**

Angron started to laugh, and Guilliman looked like he was going to have an stroke.

**Those Forge Worlds still intact after the collapse of the Imperium either fell to chaotic or Dragon-cult invasions. Some were ransacked by rival warbands, desperate for tech priest slaves to help them work their stolen technologies. These slaves became bartered like currency amongst the various larger Petty Imperia, as they became known now. Some Forge Worlds simply sealed themselves off from the galaxy entirely, their Fabricators for once preferring ignorance over knowledge of what lay beyond.**

**Chaos became a raging torrent in these dark millennia, rising to levels of corruption not seen since the Age of Strife. Worlds were dragged into the Warp as whole planets were over-run by rogue psykers, madmen, and monstrous Space Marines. The Chaos Legions became virtually indistinguishable from rabid bands of former loyalists. Some groups slaughtered in the name of Dark Gods, others just slaughtered.**

The entire room was shocked by this fact.

**Abaddon the Despoiler seized massive swathes of space around the Eye, being careful to not disturb the New Devourer, as it blundered around him. Dodging like a skilled swimmer giving a swarm of predatory fish a wide berth, he avoided them. Abaddon and his 200th Black Crusade plunged into the Sol system. It is there that legend tells of the war of two spheres. Here, Abaddon faced the army of the Dragon transcendent, a vast army of fallen Mechanicus and those same silver sentinels that already plagued thousands of worlds.**

Horus then stated, "I feel such a strange mixture of pride and horror."

**The confrontation was epic in scale. Warped-spawned magic and daemonic machinery and weaponry battled arcane weapons of unimaginable power. The vast serried ranks of Necron and Pariah, which covered nearly every solid world in the Sol system like a silver carpet. In the end, Abaddon was forced to merely surround the ort cloud. The Dragon had ensured the solar system was his.**

**His, save for a single orb of diamond-hard stubbornness: Titan. It stood a stony fortress, its doors sealed from the Necrons by adamantium and heavy cannons, its soul sealed from Abaddon by the cold steel cage of faith encasing the hearts of the Grey Knights and Custodian Guard trapped upon the world. All other humans on the world had perished a thousand years previously, yet the ancient warriors stood firm, a shadow of the Imperium's past glory.**

**In the turbulent energies of the Warp, the Chaos Gods also suffered. For with the end of the Emperor, something else was stirred. Birthed upon the death of the Carrion Lord on Terra, the Starchild suckled upon the raged religious lunacy of the dying Imperium, consuming every soul remaining upon Terra in its birth pangs. This is what killed the Astronimicon. Ophelia became a focus for this dark zeal. At the dawn of the 50th millennium, the Starchild became the Star Father, and the Warp became a battleground. For a brief instance (or perhaps an eternity. In the warp, none can tell for sure) the Star Father became dominant over the Chaos foes. Then, with the sickening inevitability of the great game of Chaos, the Star Father became one amongst the five, an god of order amongst gods of chaos.**

The Emperor crushed the handrests of his seat enraged and said, "GREAT! NOW I BECOME ONE OF THOSE REALITY TUMORS!"

**Where they spread chaos, He spread oppression. Where their daemons were feral nightmares that rend souls, His daemons were faceless automata, enslaving the souls of humans into servitude. The Star Father's daemon worlds sprung up in the Eye and across the galaxy in the closing millenia of this dark age. They were globes of featureless gold, with golden faceless daemons and billions of mindless, empty humans. The inhabitants of these worlds shuffled across the surface for no particular reason until they simply died of starvation or fatigue.**

The entire room was shocked by this cruelty.

**It is the 51st Millennium and I cannot wake up from this nightmare! I cannot wake up!**

The tech priest made one observation, "Told you we shouldn't have watched this."

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this was made because a reviewer wanted a break. on Monday I will continue prince of the eye, or at least try. and on wensday I will do this sort of thing.


	10. prince of the eye part seven

Zahariel made this

s/13366753/7/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-4#post-59390396

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The tech priest played the next holovid, and the family watched interested by what might happen.

**After having learned that Curze had arrived to the Eye and made contact with him, Horus began to plan for a great gathering of his brothers, in order to rebuild the alliance that had nearly destroyed the Imperium and ushered in a new age for Mankind.**

The Emperor noted, "IF THERE IS ANYONE WHO CAN UNITE CHAOS, IT IS YOU HORUS." Horus pondered this and asked, "Should I be proud or worried at that." The Emperor shrugged.

**Horus knew that Magnus must already be there : the Thousand Sons had been the first to make their lair in the Eye after Prospero's destruction, and their sorcery would have make their retreat after the defeat of Terra quicker than that of any other Legion. There had been no sign of Magnus' children since the Siege, but the Warmaster knew that they must be there. There was nowhere else for them to go, and after surviving the Burning and the rebellion, Horus very much doubted there existed anything that could truly destroy the Fifteenth Legion once and for all.**

Horus shot a guilty look at Magnus, who himself shot a hateful look at Russ.

**He also knew that his brother Lorgar had fled to the Eye after he had humiliated and banished him from the war effort at Ullanor, due to his feeble attempt at killing Horus and replacing him as leader of the rebellion. In addition, the Urizen had been the first Primarch to physically journey to the Eye of Terror, long before the others had conceived of rebellion (save perhaps Angron, who had craved the Emperor's death from the very moment he had met their creator and be cheated of his own doom). Furthermore, Horus had heard from the daemons that had whispered in his ears through the last section of the rebellion that Kor Phaeron, Lorgar's adoptive father, had arrived in the Eye after his defeat at Calth and had claimed the daemon world of Sicarius in the name of his Legion. No doubt Lorgar had already made his way there, to be joined by the rest of his Legion.**

The recent deaths of both Kor Phareon and Erbus did nothing to make Lorgar feel less guilty. Angron meanwhile had been considering rebellion, but these holovids had made him view the Emperor in a different light.

**Fulgrim's defeat at Guilliman's and Sanguinius' hands had echoed through the Empyrean, and Mortarion's orderly retreat to the Eye was known to the Sixteenth Legion. The Warp sung of Perturabo's great victory over Dorn, even if the Lord of Iron had been interrupted before he had been able to claim the Praetorian's life.**

**As for Alpharius … who knew. Even Horus himself had not known all of the Hydra's moves during the rebellion, and after the muster at Ullanor, there had been no sign of his brother Primarch, though members of the Twentieth Legion had taken part in the Siege, seemingly of their own volition. But the Warmaster did not doubt, even for a moment, that Alpharius would know of the gathering, and come if he so wished. Such was the way of the Alpha Legion.**

Alpharius/Omegon noted, "We are" "the wild card" "forever" "and always."

**And so Horus sent his call. Those Sons of Horus who had been Librarians before the rebellion had long since learned to throw off the limitations of the Edict of Nikaea, becoming full-fledged Sorcerers, and with their help the Warmaster sent forth his summons on the aetheric tides.**

**For the first time in years, Horus was forced to think like a diplomat, rather than a conqueror. Since the end of the Great Crusade, the Warmaster had put aside diplomacy, instead offering the systems he crossed a simple choice : submission or destruction. The overwhelming power and momentum of the rebellion had allowed him to dispense with the niceties, but now, with the armies he had gathered broken and his own defeat at the Emperor's hands – even though it had been more of a mutual defeat than a victory for any of them – things were different. He could not simply command his brothers to attend him and expect them to answer, let alone follow his orders in the Long War to come. There was to much baggage between them, too many grudges.**

Horus pondered this, and resolved to be more diplomatic in the future.

**Horus knew that asking his brothers to come to Maeleum, the stronghold of his Legion, would be a poor diplomatic gesture, and so instead his message called for a gathering on what would hopefully be considered neutral ground by all Primarchs : the remnants of a dead Eldar Craftworld once called Zu'lasa, destroyed during its launch by Slaanesh. There, for the first time since they had met above the black sands of Isstvan V, the nine Primarchs who had betrayed the Emperor met.**

**As the host of the gathering, Horus was the first to arrive. The Warmaster came to the ruins of Zu'lasa in full regalia, wearing his black armor and fur cloak, holding Worldbreaker in one hand and the Talon on the other. The Eye of Horus was emblazoned upon his chestplate, a crimson and black orb that glowed with the same eldritch radiance that radiated from the Primarch's cybernetic cowl. He came alone, leaving his Mournival aboard the Vengeful Spirit, to monitor the movement of the other arrivals and keep watch for any sign of treachery.**

The sight of the corrupted Horus caused many of those Primarchs who had held a bit of a grudge against him for his actions in the now impossible future that was the Horus Heresy to reconsider. The thing on screen wasn't there brother, it was something wearing his form. It was the eldritch power emitted by there corrupted brother's form that made them realize this, as no being born truly of the material could look like the prince of the eye did.

**For several hours, he walked the corridors of the dead Craftworld, taking in the traces of the desperate battle that had been fought by the Eldar as the daemons of Slaanesh swarmed the great vessel. Then he came to what had once been a temple dedicated to Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God of War that the xenos had worshipped before their entire pantheon was destroyed by the Dark Prince. The statue of the Avatar was still there, its pieces scattered across the room, each carefully defaced by the claws of the Neverborn.**

**Horus sat upon a fragment of the dead god's head, and waited for his brothers to arrive. Whether because they had answered his call promptly or because the Eye's time-warping effects were working in his favor, he did not have to wait for long, and they all arrived nearly at the same time.**

The Emperor merely said, "BRACE YOURSELVES MY SONS."

**Perturabo came with all the discipline one might expect from him. His fleet emerged from the storm in perfect formation, the Ironblood looming at its heart. The proud Gloriana-Class battleship already showed signs of its time in the Eye, as well as under the command of its newly ascended Daemon Primarch. Tendrils of living metal threateningly floated around it, and gun emplacements sprouted from vast sections of the hull that were covered in a mix of hardened flesh and machine.**

The sight of his corrupted ship caused Perturabo's stoic vistage to break, even if ever so slightly, showing worry and disgust.

**The Lord of Iron came to Zu'lasa with eight of his Iron Circle. His transformation had removed the malady that had afflicted him since Fulgrim's assassination attempt on Iydris, and more : now Perturabo was taller than ever before, and radiated an aura of power that was second only to that of Horus himself. The Daemon Primarch went straight to the chamber where Horus was waiting, teleporting directly aboard the Craftworld using the new, Warp-touched technology his Legion was already developing in the wake of his ascension and their exile in the Eye.**

The sight of his daemon form and the twisted technology he used caused Perturabo to truly show his fear and disgust at what he could have been.

**'Perturabo. I am glad you arrived before the others. There is much we need to discuss in private.'**

**'Horus. Why did you call us ?'**

**'Because, brother, as you have shown us, our defeat at Terra does not mean we have lost the war.'**

**The Lord of Iron smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. It promised destruction and ruin, the annihilation of worlds and the drowning of hope in cold, unfeeling tyranny.**

**'I am listening.'**

**When the Night Lords arrived, the very Warp parted before them, recoiling from the madness of Konrad Curze. The Eighth Legion had come in force from Kerlazium. Thousands of Legionaries from the Tormentor faction had flocked to their Primarch, while the Long War loyalists had once again been tasked with ensuring the actual transportation of the Night Haunter. Aboard the Umbrea Insidior, flagship of the 1st Company, Konrad Curze laughed as the fleet travelled to Zu'lasa, absent-mindedly carving captive damned to shreds while thinking of all the potential futures he could see stretching from the coming gathering. Once the fleet arrived, easily twice as numerous as that of the Fourth Legion though not nearly as disciplined, the Night Haunter called five of his sons, seemingly at random, to accompany him as he went to the Craftworld. Three of the five were members of the Long War faction, while the remaining two had been falling further and further down into the corruption of the Warp. Only the presence of their Primarch kept these favored sons from turning on each other during the journey, such was the growing chasm forming between the Legion's factions.**

Konrad showed his disgust at the maddened daemon he could have been, and some worry at his sons division. He did care for his sons, even if he didn't show it.

**Unlike his brothers, Magnus did not need to use a ship to travel. The Crimson King simply manifested himself on Zu'lasa, using his immense power and mastery of sorcery to transport himself and nine of his closest sons from the Planet of the Sorcerers to the Craftworld. Each of the nine Thousand Sons were powerful Sorcerers, chosen from among the few who had survived the disastrous Rubric of Ahriman with their minds intact.**

Magnus was impressed at the power his corrupted self showed, but knew the price of that power was far too dire to be paid.

**Lorgar's flagship, the Abyss-Class Trisagion, came alone, its Geller fields inactive. Instead of being protected from the madness of the Warp by the ancient technology, the Word Bearers had elected to placate the Gods by crucifying thousands of slaves to the vessel's hull, binding their souls to their flesh with sorcery so that they could not simply die of void exposure. Left as playthings for the Neverborn, these unfortunate souls – all of whom were cultists of Chaos who had volunteered for the honor – had suffered untold torments. A few of the most resilient or unlucky were still "alive", transformed beyond recognition by the whims of the Warp. They would be harvested by the Word Bearers before the ship's next journey, to be either added to the Legion's horde of horrors, or to be dissected so that the will of the Gods may be divined from their blessed entrails.**

The disgust Lorgar felt for his counterparts actions was palpable.

**The Aurelian came to Zu'lasa with his two closest, once-disgraced advisors : Kor Phaeron, his adoptive father, and Erebus, along with a group of seventeen figures in hooded black robes, all of them mortal-sized. While he was still mortal, he radiated the power of Chaos in a barely-controlled storm of energy that was contained only through a supreme effort of will. His golden skin glowed with an infernal inner light, and the sigils carved upon his armor shone with the same illumination.**

Even in the form of a holovid the power of this potential Lorgar was radiated, and it took a supreme force of will for Lorgar to not turn his weapon on himself like Horus and Sanguinius had done.

**The Death Guard of Mortarion was shrouded in thick clouds of flies, whose buzzing was somehow heard even across the void of space. The Endurance was accompanied by a scattering of lesser vessels, all of which bore the signs of Nurgle's affection for the Fourteenth Legion. The gunship that carried Mortarion and his Deathshroud to Zu'lasa was almost more insect than machine, and the fluids that leaked from its engines attacked the ground it landed on, creating a slowly expanding patch of black, wet rot identical to the ones left wherever the Death Lord stepped.**

The tech priest looked nervous, and the Emperor remembered his confession that he possesed a fear of bugs.

**Angron's arrival was heralded by a great scream, and a wave of blood-red fire spread across the roiling clouds of Warp energy. The Conqueror emerged from the inferno, its once-white surface now the color of dried blood, the Daemon Primarch of Khorne standing on the vessel's hull, his bat-like wings spread wide as he drank in the raw energies of Chaos. Calling the Red Angel had been one of the most difficult parts of arranging the gathering, as Angron had never been one for formality, even before he had been stripped of the last shreds of his humanity on Nuceria. No one knew what had become of him after the Siege, but his continued survival was guaranteed, as he had become as immortal as any daemon upon his unholy transformation.**

**To make sure he would be there, Horus had called upon the ancient ties of loyalty that bounded him to his brother, and used the eight commanders of the World Eaters who had survived Skalathrax to amplify his summon. As Angron flew the distance between the Conqueror and the ruined Craftworld, these eight warlords departed from their ships, which had been waiting nearby. Since Skalathrax, they had ruled the Twelfth Legion under Horus' leadership in a joint council. Now, they returned to the side of their true master, the one for whom they had willingly inflicted the Nails upon themselves. Only they knew what transpired between them and the Red Angel when they met, but all eight of them were still alive when Angron reached the meeting chamber.**

Angron took some more Ibuprofen, and the nails were dulled.

**From the depths of the Craftworld, where the Neverborn had performed unspeakable acts upon the spiritual leaders of the would-be Eldar exiles, Fulgrim manifested in all his terrible glory. The White Naga slithered out of the warped bones and echoing nightmares of the dead, passing from his own realm through the stain upon reality that the daemons' deeds had permanently etched upon reality. Where he passed, the ghosts of the Eldar were dragged back from oblivion, manifesting as ethereal shapes that writhed in pain as they were forced to relive their last moments. Fulgrim smiled as he advanced, and softly sung to himself a melody that was as beautiful as it was discordant, adding to the suffering of the alien shades. The wraithbone shuddered and twisted at his presence, reshaping itself into the image of screaming faces and obscene daemonic figures.**

Fulgrim was disgusted at the thing he would become, and Vulkan was troubled by the screams of the Eldar souls, despite his well known hatred of that particular xenos race.

**Alpharius, or at least a warrior claiming that identity, was the last to make his presence known, though Horus knew he must have been there before any others – possibly before the Warmaster himself. The lord of the Hydra simply emerged from behind a broken pillar once all the other Primarchs were gathered, taking his place among them as if he had always been there. His brothers, both living and immortal, looked upon him with suspicion, but did not question or challenge him. He was alone, and carried no weapon greater than a bolter and a combat knife sheathed at his belt, yet he did not display any sign of nervousness as he stood among Daemon Primarchs and the chosen champions of the Dark Gods. Curze barked a laugh as his brother's appearance, and clapped, the talons of his gauntlets clashing together in an unpleasant ring.**

Most of the room held there ears at the hideous noise that was the Daemon Curze's laugh and the clashing of his talons.

**So began what the historians of the Eye would, in time, come to call the Broken Conclave.**

Rogal asked, "Why is it called the Broken Conclave?" Perturabo was about to hit him when the Emperor said, "IT WILL PROBOBLY BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT HOLOVID."

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author notes

hello there, I have two things I want to say

one, the tech priest is based off of me personality wise, and I have a fear of bugs

two, if you like this series please check out my other work, the volcanic heresy. it is my passion project, and I would like more reviews and follow/favorites on that story. so please check it out.

alright that's it, on Wednesday the imperial family reviews the meaning of triumph.


	11. the meaning of triumph

this was made by Zahariel

s/10773805/21/Warhammer-40000-Short-Stories

threads/warhammer-40000-what-if-the-great-crusade-succeeded.523996/

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The Emperor looked through the holovids for one he wanted to see, with the tech priest helping him. The tech priest made a slight ping, like a sonar detecting something and said, "My Emperor, I think I found something." The Emperor looked at the holovid and read the title aloud, "THE MEANING OF TRIUMPH?" The tech priest nodded and said, "I can only assume this is a document about a timeline where the imperium won." The Emperor smiled and said, "LET'S WATCH THIS. MAYBE NONE OF MY SONS ARE CORRUPTED." The tech priest looked doubtful, and the Emperor noticed this, "WHAT'S WITH THAT LOOK?" The tech priest shrugged and said, "My gut tells me that one of your sons turns traitor in the timeline described." The Emperor just said, "OK, I BET YOU FIVE THRONES THAT NONE OF MY SONS TURN TRAITOR." The tech priest shook the Emperor's hand, "Your on my lord."

In the viewing room the Emperor told his sons about the bet, and they were ultimately touched by there Father. He truly belived none of them would turn, he belived in them all even though they did not. They bore no ire towards the tech priest, and each could remember a time where there instincts guided there actions. All were shocked when malcador's voice came through the speaker system.

**I am Malcador the Sigillite, High Lord of Terra, Master of the Adeptus Administratum and Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum. I have lived long enough to remember Old Earth, to have witnessed the history of our species in all its glory and failure, but not long enough that I can no longer relate to those not as long-lived as I. I am one of the most powerful psykers in the Imperium and beyond; my will can shatter the strongest of mind, my thoughts can lift a Baneblade and crumble it like paper. I am also a friend of the Emperor – perhaps his only remaining friend not linked to him by blood, though not the only one he ever had.**

The Emperor looked slightly sad at this while the tech priest was annoyed, but he kept it in check by reminding himself that he probably didn't exist in this timeline.

**I write these words in the Imperial Palace, on Terra, the birthworld of Mankind and Throneworld of the Imperium. I write them because my life, which has lasted so much longer than its natural span, is coming to an end, and I am a vain enough man that I would like my final thoughts be recorded for posterity. Let this then, be the record of my thoughts. Let it be the record of the victory of the Great Crusade, and the triumph of Mankind over the galaxy.**

The Emperor beamed, and the room was joyful at this fact. Guilliman was actually weeping tears of joy at the fact that, in one timeline, the Imperium wasn't sundered.

**Victory. Even now, after all these years, I find it difficult to believe we actually managed it. When I sided with the Emperor in the darkness of the Age of Strife, I did not think it possible for his dreams to become reality. I knew them to be noble, something worth fighting and dying for, but I thought them to be an ideal, not something that could be achieved. Yet here we are, a thousand years after Magnus sat on the Golden Throne and the Emperor declared the Great Crusade over. No power remains in the galaxy that can challenge the might of the Imperium. We have won, at long, long last.**

Magnus looked fulfilled, the knowledge that he had fulfilled his purpose in this timeline bringing him contentment.

**The annals of the Great Crusade are many, thanks to the work of the remembrancers. There is no need for me to mention the Triumph of Ullanor, the Treaty of the Interex, or the Isstvaanite Rebellion, swiftly put down by the Raven Guard after they rushed to the system to extinguish the shame of revolt on a world they had brought to compliance. But I will write about the Webway Project – after so long forced to remain silent, I always enjoy having a chance to explain it.**

The primarchs leaned in, wondering what Malcador would reveal about there Fathers project.

**The Webway Project was how the Emperor wanted to save Mankind from the Primordial Annihilator. Its basis was a simple observation : the Imperium needed the Warp to exist, yet the Warp would destroy the Imperium eventually. The things that dwell there – named by some deluded, unfortunate souls as the Dark Gods – are anathema to our reality, and would, unchecked, consume all that is sane and pure. Therefore the Imperium must be shielded from the Warp, separated from it. The Webway, this network of portals and trans-dimensional paths left by the first species to rule the galaxy, held the key to this. After centuries of research and decades of work, the Emperor managed to bend the Webway into the service of Mankind.**

**A thousand years ago, the Emperor completed his work. The Golden Throne was connected to the Webway, and Magnus was called from Prospero to take his place upon it. I remember the look of disbelieving joy on his face as the Crimson King finally learned why it was the Emperor had forbidden him his sorcerous pursuits, when he learned the purpose to which his father had always destined him. He willingly sat upon the throne, accepting the terrible burden it places upon him. Now, the Crimson King is silent most of the time, emerging from his trance only a handful of times each decade, and never for more than a few minutes each time.**

**With Magnus on the Golden Throne, the Imperium's fleets can now travel through the deepest places of the Warp, where the things that feed on the smoke of burning souls cannot thread. Galactic travel has become much, much quicker – one ship can go from Terra to Maccrage in a matter of days, rather than months or years. And while Geller Fields are still necessary to reach the depths of the Empyrean, the journey in itself is peaceful, the dreams of the crew undisturbed by the influence of baleful entities. There is no longer a need for Navigators – the last of them died centuries ago, alone in his gilded palace, sterilized like the rest of his kind at the Emperor's decree.**

Some of the more humanitarian primarchs cringed at this.

**The Thousand Sons are now led by Ahriman, First Captain of their Legion. They no longer take part in the few remaining wars of the Imperium – instead, they stand at the Emperor's side, assisting him in the next stage of his grand design for humanity. On worlds shielded from Chaos' influence by powerful, planet-sized wards, the Emperor and the sons of Magnus work together to guide human evolution into a form that will truly be immune to Chaos' corruption. It will take thousands – perhaps tens of thousands – of years before they complete their work, and none can predict what form the end result will take. But in the meantime, generations will live in peace and prosperity.**

Magnus looked overjoyed, and the Emperor looked inspired. He resolved to make that the next step in his plan to destroy chaos. Before he had just assumed building the webway would do it, but this was a better idea.

**This prosperity is fuelled by the new discoveries of the Mechanicum. The Quest for Knowledge continues – even after ten centuries, the tech-priests have yet to complete the collection of every scrap of lore lost during the Age of Strife. Much of what they have found is, of course, forbidden – Warp-manipulating technology, gene-forging devices, nanoscopic swarms, the hideous Abominable Intelligence, and other, even more dangerous secrets. But what the Emperor allows the priests of Mars to use has ushered in a new age of prosperity for the Imperium. The Imperial Army has access to new, more powerful weapons, and the civilians of the Imperium all live in far better conditions than a thousand years ago. Most of them have never seen war in any form beyond the stories that reach them – stories of the Imperial Army, and of the Space Marines Legions and their Primarchs.**

This caused Ferrus to smile, and he was happy that innovation was not heresy in at least one timeline.

**As the Primarch chosen to be Warmaster in the Emperor's absence from the Great Crusade, Horus was the only one of his brothers to know the truth of the Webway Project. On Ullanor, I managed to convince the Emperor to tell his son why he was seemingly abandoning him – to share his vision with the one tasked with defending it. I still tremble sometimes when imagining what could have happened had I failed to break through his stubbornness. Horus is still Warmaster, supreme commander of the Imperium's armies, subject only to the will of the Emperor and the Council of Terra. He is Mankind's mighty sword arm, and none can stand before his might. But his hold over his brothers has grown weak in this time of peace, with each Primarch walking his own path.**

**Ever since Lorgar killed Kor Phaeron after the Rebuke of the Word Bearers on Monarchia, the Urizen has been withdrawn and sullen. He will not talk of what happened, not to me, whom he still sees as responsible for the humiliation of his Legion. But he took the lesson of Monarchia to heart. Colchis has changed greatly since the Seventeenth was clearly told to stop worshipping the Emperor. The temples have been cast down, and in their place Lorgar has raised great academies, with the help of Prosperine teachers. It is my shame that when Lorgar was down from his father's rebuke, I could do nothing to help him, but it is my joy that Magnus could.**

**It is good that Kor Phaeron died. Neither I nor the Emperor could touch him, for Lorgar would never have forgiven us, but we both could sense something dark about him, the leftover stench of the Ruinous Powers. However, all of Colchis bore the same stigma, even after Lorgar had cleansed it with his noble, if dedicated to an inexisting god, crusade. At the time, we decided it wasn't worth the risk alienating Lorgar. Even so, I am relieved that the old worm won't be there to pour poison into his ear any longer.**

Lorgar once more cursed the name of the man he once called father.

**After years of being looked down by his brothers, Lorgar proved his worth beyond all expectations when, a few decades after the Rebuke, he saved Angron from the Butcher's Nails. By combining his awakened psychic powers with technology older than the Nails themselves and the records of Nuceria's overlords, he found a way to safely remove the implants. Even more impressive, he managed to help Angron get over his grief for the loss of his fellow warriors, left to die by the Emperor all these years before. Angron hasn't forgiven his father for that – I doubt he ever will – but he no longer burns with anger at the Emperor.**

Angron took some more ibuprofen, annoyed that no intelegence on how to remove the nails was given.

**After the Red Angel was saved, so too were his sons. The procedure developed by Lorgar was used to free the Twelfth Legion from the Nails, with Angron commanding those few of his sons who wanted to keep them to undergo it. I heard that in a few cases, the Legionaries had to be dragged to the operation table, as if the implants were driving them into a frenzy to escape their destruction. Considering the malevolent design of these horrible things, I wouldn't be surprised if that was actually the case.**

The Emperor noted this, and added that to his mental calculations on how to remove the nails.

**Nowadays, Angron has returned to Nuceria. He has deposed the descendants of the lords who made him fight in the arena, and become ruler of the world, ending the civil war that had raged there for hundreds of years. He has lived far beyond the most optimistic prognostics of Arkhan Land, and is likely to live as long as any of his brothers – longer if he keeps away from battles. Lorgar often visits him there, when his duties as diplomat give him the time. The work to repair the damage inflicted by generations of warfare upon Nuceria can always use the help of another Primarch's mind. His sons have become peacekeepers on that world and a handful of others in the region, forming a small domain that might not be as prosperous as nearby Ultramar, but is still a model of peace and safety.**

**Perturabo, the Lord of Iron, ended his participation in the Great Crusade when his homeworld of Olympia rose in rebellion against the Imperium, led by his own adoptive father. He brought the Iron Warriors to Olympia and crushed the rebellion, but in the aftermath, as he contemplated the ruin he had made of his Legion's homeworld, he despaired and vowed to never do such a thing again. He bent the entire might of the Fourth Legion to rebuilding the planet's civilization, and he lives there now, not as a ruler but as a simple citizen. Without his leadership, the Legion has broken apart under dozens of warsmiths, each guiding his warriors to their own path. Some have built great fortresses in contested territories, while others lend their might to battlefronts throughout the galaxy. A few remain on Olympia, having become teachers and architects rather than warriors and generals. From the ashes, Olympia has been reborn as a world of wonders and prosperity, though it is haunted still by the horrors that took place during the rebellion.**

Perturabo smiled at this, knowing full well that was what he wanted.

**Ferrus Manus brought his Legion back to Medusa at the end of the Great Crusade. In the late years, his sons had embraced augmentation to an unsettling degree, holding humankind in contempt and seeing metal as stronger than flesh. It took decades for Ferrus to purge this attitude from his Legion and bring some balance of healthy respect for the strength of technology and proper reverence for the human form. Even then, the Legion retained a predilection for machines and cybernetics. Nowadays, the Tenth Legion is the closest ally to the Mechanicum, its members spread out among the skitarii hosts, providing advice and elite forces. Ferrus himself has remained on Medusa, directing the slow process of building a true civilization upon that harsh world and harvesting the secrets of the Telstarax for the Imperium. His hands are still covered in the same silver metal as they were when the Emperor found him, though he has spent decades searching for a way to remove it.**

Ferrus smiled as well, he also got what he wanted.

**Ultramar remains as strong and peaceful as ever. Roboute Guilliman rules there, master of the Five Hundred Worlds, and his Legion has grown in numbers thanks to the billions who live under the protection of the Avenging Son. Numbering in the millions, the Ultramarines are the most numerous of all Legions, and they have become peacekeepers, but also men of state and other, less expected pursuits. They serve as the champions of Rogue Traders and Governors alike, or assist the Arbites with their duties. In the Fortress of Hera, Guilliman manages his empire within an empire, spending every day absorbed in the minutia of countless documents. He is happy there, I think, helping build the future of his people. Still, a time might come when we need him to don the panoply of general once more, and I do not doubt for a moment that he will have lost none of his edge then.**

Guilliman smiled a content smile at his fate.

**Most of the Salamanders have returned to Nocturne and become the planet's protectors, though others have spread across the Imperium and become master craftsmen and smiths. They forge the weapons and armors of the Imperium's elite, their craft rivalling the greatest forges of Mars. As for Vulkan, he has come to Terra, drawn by some unspoken destiny. There, he has replaced Dorn as the Warden of the Throneworld, defender of Magnus. His strength has greatly increased since his arrival a thousand years ago – it's as if he draws power from the very earth of Terra. Even though he keeps watch before the Golden Throne, he also spends much time creating objects of incredible beauty – no weapons, not anymore, but trinkets and artworks the likes of which have never been seen before. I fancy myself as a connoisseur of art, and I freely admit that the wonder Vulkan crafts are enough to make me weep.**

Vulkan himself started to weep, for he wanted to forge true works of art.

**Unfortunately, not all sons of the Emperor are living such peaceful, relatively happy existences. Leman Russ, ever distrusted by the Imperium for his barbarian act, has withdrawn to Fenris, his Legion seeming to wither in this peaceful age. I think that without battle to divert his mind, he dwells too much on the past, on the things he did for the Emperor of which none might speak. His sons keep watch over Fenris, and hunt the great beasts of that world, but they rarely venture beyond the system anymore. And in the icy wastes of that world, the numbers of the Wulfen increase with each passing decade as some recruits fail to resist the beast in their blood. Sooner or later, they will become a threat to Fenris' human population, and Russ will have no choice but to order their execution, lest they upset Fenris' delicate balance of life and death. Maybe then, when he has to be an executioner again, he will be shaken out of his melancholy.**

Leman darkly scowled at his fate, knowing all to well that could happen to him should peace prevail.

**Caliban, homeworld of Lion El'Jonson, was lost a thousand years ago, not long after the end of the Great Crusade. When the Lion and his Legion returned to Caliban to celebrate the end of the Crusade, they found the planet risen in a rebellion led by Luther, the Lion's own foster father, and followed by thousands of Dark Angels who had been sent to the planet in shameful exile by the Primarch. Luther, once a great knight of Caliban, second only to the Lion, had been tainted by forbidden lore, and had become a master sorcerer of immense power. Caliban burned in the following conflict, and eventually shattered to pieces, leaving only the Rock – the Legion's main fortress on the planet, and now a mobile space fort the match of the Phalanx in size and firepower. The Lion himself fell into a deathly coma during the battle, as he fought against Luther himself. All the efforts of the Imperium's best healers have failed to rouse him from slumber – even the Emperor's own intervention could not restore his son. Now the First Legion hunts the traitors who survived the destruction of Caliban, cast across time and space by Luther's final spell.**

Lion looked sad, even though he had strainted things out with his foster father the very fact that what could have happened still happened in many timelines soured his mood.

**A few years before the end of the Great Crusade, the Emperor's Children were divided by a terrible inner war. Almost half of the Legion rose against Fulgrim, its Primarch, led by the former Chief Apothecary Fabius Bile and Commander Eidolon. Fabius and Eidolon sought to transform the Legionaries into something more, altering their very bodies using xenos materials. They and their cronies had gained great power from it, but when they revealed their work to Fulgrim, the Phoenician was horrified and sought to kill them. Eidolon died in the following conflict, slain by Lucius, Thirteenth Captain of the Emperor's Children. But Bile escaped, fleeing the Imperium's borders to continue his blasphemous experiments. To this day, the Emperor's Children hunt for him, and Fulgrim himself lead the hunt.**

Fulgrim snarled, wishing with all his hearts that he could kill bile, but given he was in hiding he couldn't.

**Sanguinius, most beloved of the Primarchs, has been unable to prevent the slow degeneration of his Legion. One by one, the Blood Angels succumb to the Red Thirst, a flaw in their gene-seed that transform them into bloodthirsty vampires. Once kept a secret from even the Legion itself, now it is known by all the lords and ladies of the Imperium, and rumors abound in the lower ranks. Entire Companies of the Ninth Legion have gone rogue, their minds twisted by the Red Thirst into inhuman monsters who still retain a horrifying trace of their intellect. Sanguinius himself leads the hunt for them, his heart broken by their fate but unwilling to let anyone else deliver them the Emperor's Peace. In the other Companies, all who succumb to the Thirst are put down. And during that time, the Apothecaries and their allies in the Mechanicum desperately search for a cure. I hope, for the sake of the Imperium and Sanguinius himself, that they find one soon, lest the Emperor be forced to declare the entire Ninth Legion lost.**

Sanguinius had a face of sheer despair, knowing full well that this could happen.

**Such is the current fate of Humanity, but we are not alone in this galaxy. With Mankind's claim of the Webway, the Eldar have been driven closer to extinction than ever before. The Craftworlds have fled far from the Imperium's borders, into wild regions of space we have no interest in claiming. As long as they stay there, we are happy to let them live in peace – their time as masters of the stars is passed, never to come again. Some in the Imperium claim that now is the time to reach out to them, to forge an alliance with them – they are still our betters in many domains, and there is much we could learn from them in return for our protection. Perhaps it will happen, in time.**

**The scourge of the Orks endure, impossible to truly exterminate or contain. On Mars, there are entire cities dedicated to studying the biology of the greenskins. Much has been discovered – that they are a fungus species, for instance, and definitively an artificial one. But a way to wipe them out entirely is yet to be found. In the meantime, they grow in numbers beyond the borders of the Imperium, on worlds without any value to Mankind. The White Scars hunt them there, led by their Khan, away from the Imperium for decades at a time before coming back to resupply. They have become little more than stories themselves to the Imperium's common folk : tales of noble hunters wandering the wild places of the galaxy, protecting Humanity from the beasts that dwell there.**

**And despite all of our victories, despite all the great things that have come to pass in this Age of Glory, darkness remains in the hidden corners of the galaxy. The worst of Mankind's foes cannot be truly destroyed, and the Imperium itself has given birth to one of the greatest dangers it must now face. There is one Primarch who is no longer faithful to the Imperium, one who has betrayed his oaths and become the very kind of monster the Great Crusade was meant to eradicate.**

**Konrad Curze, the Night Haunter, vanished after the destruction of Nostramo. Now, he and his Legion of monsters wander beyond the Imperium's borders. Every so often, an expedition will discover a human world that the Imperium hadn't reached yet – its population horribly murdered, the symbol of the Eighth Legion left behind in skulls and flayed skin. The madness that haunted Curze for all his life has completely consumed him, and it has spread to the Night Lords. Dorn and Corax are hunting for him, determined to bring him in chains before the Emperor. But so far, he has always eluded them, managing to escape in every of the few times they thought they had cornered him. Within the Imperium, the name of the Night Haunter has become a curse, and his Legion the bogeymen mothers use to scare their children into behaving. Reports have reached Terra that daemons have been sighted fighting alongside them, and I fear what such an alliance might portend.**

Konrad looked unhappy at this revealtion, and the Emperor dug a few thrones out of his pocket and gave them to the tech priest.

**For our greatest enemy, as always, remains Chaos. The Imperial Truth denied Mankind's worship to the Dark Gods, and the Webway Project all but starved them from our emotions. But while their influence over Mankind is all but gone, they remain powerful in the galaxy. The spiritual cancer that is the Primordial Annihilator seeks the destruction of the Imperium still, now more than ever before. Their plans to make the Imperium turn on itself have failed, and now the Ruinous Powers have turned their eyes toward other avenues of attack. They prepare for war against the one they call the Anathema, and the Imperium prepares itself for their coming. The Inquisition I founded in the aftermath of the Great Crusade's end is tasked with ensuring the Dark Gods have no servants within the Imperium itself. And the Alpha Legion, ever secretive in its means and agenda, provides Imperial commanders with intelligence on the movements of Chaos beyond Imperial borders.**

The Emperor and the Primarchs steeled themselves for the horrors of Chaos.

**Slaanesh, the Dark Prince of Pleasure and Pain, was the least affected by the Emperor's plan, for he was born of the Eldar's depravity and a creature of that species. The Dark Eldar, whose Dark City of Commoragh remains beyond the reach of the Imperium even now, still feed his power with their decadence and cruelty. With the Imperium as strong as it is, they rarely dare prey upon humans any more, but there are many other species that can satisfy their sadistic appetites. Slaanesh now seeks to turn the Dark Eldar from unwitting slaves into true worshippers – he whispers in the ears of the House princes, promising power and pleasure in return for their devotion. Already several noble Houses have fallen under his priests' sway, and if none stand against him soon the Dark City and all the billions of Dark Eldar who live there will kneel beneath his banner. Should this come to pass, the power of the relics stored in Commoragh from the days of the Eldar Empire would be a terrible threat to the Imperium, and all life in the galaxy.**

Vulkan and Khan both were absoulutely infuriated by this, and in the dark city Vect continued his plans.

**Unlike his rival, Khorne, the Blood God, has cast his net wide across the galaxy. Entire species have been corrupted by the God of War, most of them having already encountered the Imperium and barely escaped extermination at the hands of the Legions. Under the guidance of Khornate priests, they have come together, ignoring their differences in the pursuit of revenge. They have formed a militaristic empire, the Blood Pact, whose sole purpose is to increase in strength until it can challenge the Imperium. Through constant sacrifices and ritual duels to the death, the priests of the Blood Pact have cut their territory off the rest of the galaxy, preventing the Imperium from sending an armada to destroy them before they are ready. However, the Blood Pact only controls a handful of systems, and they are fully placed in the Materium – their capabilities are limited in the grand scheme of things, though they could still become a force to be reckoned with. As the Imperium continues to expand, driving xenos species before it, more and more aliens are swayed by the call of Khorne and join the Blood Pact. In time, other enclaves could be created. Maybe we should stop slaughtering all xenos we encounter, but a thousand years old practice is hard to break.**

Horus looked sad at this, and most of the room felt his pain. Even with the Imperium victorius, genocide was still used and approved of.

**When, a few years ago, the Mechanicum found the medical secrets of Mankind's past and used them to almost completely eradicate disease within the Imperium, the wrath of Nurgle, God of Plagues and Despair, was terrible. All of Segmentum Obscurus felt the Dark God's fury. On most worlds, the effect was limited to a few thousand dead, though their demise was excruciatingly painful. But on others, all life was consumed by a terrible plague, leaving naught but rotting corpses and bloated flies in its wake. Worse, all this death thinned the veil between reality and the Warp, and Nurgle used all the power he gained from it to create a champion of immense power, the Lord of Flies. Mortarion, greatest hunter of witches in the Imperium, has been sent by the Emperor to deal with this threat. The Death Lord has grown mighty over the years, and with him have gone hundreds of Sisters of Silence, but I doubt the fight will be easy. It is in times like those that I wish I believed in gods, so that I could pray to them for his safety – even if he despises me for my own psychic powers.**

Mortarion was angry at this, the witch thing he served in so many timelines still managed to plague him. He then cringed at his own unintended pun.

**As for Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways … None can tell for certain what the Schemer is about. Of all the Dark Gods, he is the most unpredictable, the most self-destructive and the most contradictory. The Alpha Legion claims that he has bent an aeon-old cabal of xenos to his will, and plans to use them to spread confusion and dissension within the Imperium. At the same time, Perpetuals who have remained in hiding for thousands of years have suddenly started to move, as if fleeing something. The Thousand Sons who dare leave the Emperor's side soon suffer from a resurgent flesh-change, twisted into inhuman monsters with horrible aspects and terrible minds. Prophets and oracles emerge in great number in xenos and renegade territories, bearing the mark of Tzeentch, all searching for something and manipulating others around them into searching for it also – though the object of their quest eludes us all. The Inquisition is investigating this mystery, of course, but I doubt there is anyone among them who can divine the mind of a Dark God.**

Alpharius and Omegon made a "hm" sound, knowing in the future they would encounter this cabal.

**And in the Eye of Terror, the Lost and the Damned gather their strength. The Dark Gods have united against the Imperium, causing the infighting between the Slaves to Ruin to decrease in strength and frequency. Renegade tech-priests have created nightmarish forge-worlds where they experiment with fusion of metal, flesh and Warp energy. Deluded champions fleeing from the Imperial Truth have become generals for the Ruinous Powers, gathering great hosts under their banner. Even with Magnus guiding our ships, we cannot enter the Eye of Terror, for Magnus' eye does not see into its hellish depths. All we can do is reinforce the world of Cadia, standing in the path of the single stable Warp route in and out of the Eye. It was Lorgar who discovered that world a thousand years ago, and wiped out its original population of Chaos worshippers. Cadia is now a fortress like no other in the galaxy, but with each passing year more of its population succumb to madness and mutation, the wards shielding them from the Eye's influence failing to contain the wrath of the Dark Gods.**

Rogal asked Perturabo, "Would you mind helping me with fortifying Cadia?" Perturabo, who had already been granted co-paetorianship, just nodded his head yes.

**I fear all of these signs point to a coming war, greater than any the Imperium has ever faced before. Soon the Ruinous Powers shall rise to strike at the Emperor's realm with all the strength they can muster. Then the power of the Imperial Truth and those who believe in it shall be tested once more. A thousand years ago, we triumphed over the plots of the Dark Gods and their minions, and ushered in the Age of Glory. A thousand years ago, we won a mighty victory. But no victory is eternal, and an empire must be defended.**

**But we will triumph in this coming war against Chaos, of this I am certain. And when we have slain the Slaves to Ruin, broken their fleets and forced the survivors to rout, we will rebuild what will have been destroyed, and we will return to our vigil, waiting for the next incursion. For this is what it means to triumph over your enemies and build your kingdom upon the charred ruins of their fallen empires. For the rest of eternity, you have to be vigilant against someone else who might do the same to what you have created.**

**And we will be vigilant. Until the end of our lives, we must keep watch, and defend Mankind from all who would threaten it until the Emperor's great design is complete and Mankind needs no longer fear the powers of the Warp, or any others. I will not see it, though. Soon I will die, and then, at long, long last, I will be able to rest.**

**Yet somehow I know this : I will not die in my sleep …**

That was when the scene completely shifted.

**Lorgar Aurelian, Daemon Primarch of Chaos Undivided, Arch-Priest of the Primordial Truth, opened his eyes, drawn away from his visions by the chiming of the bells in the distant cathedrals of Sicarius. He growled in disgust at the memory of what he had seen, caught in the eternally swirling seas of the Empyrean. He felt nothing but contempt for his alternate self.**

**It had all been a lie, and no matter how beautiful or seductive, a lie would remain a lie. The Emperor could not protect Mankind from the Primordial Annihilator. Humanity must kneel before the Gods or be destroyed by them. Even in that vision, the alternate version of that wretch Malcador had known it, deep inside. If the vision had continued, it would have shown the Imperium destroyed by the Dark Gods' armies, the Emperor's dream burned to ashes and the entire species destroyed along with it. The Horus Heresy, as the Imperials called it, had failed in destroying the Imperium and recreating it into something new – something pure – but it had at least prevented Mankind being dragged into oblivion by the Emperor's hubris.**

This caused the soaring spirits of the room to come crashing down. Was all that goodness really the dream of a corrupted daemon primarch?

**And now, it was time to finish what they had started. After ten thousand years, the time had finally come. Abaddon had set the galaxy aflame with his plots. The Imperium was reeling from the onslaught of the Dark Gods. Guilliman, Lorgar's old foe, had returned, brought back from the dead by alien witchery. The Astronomican was failing, and the Warp screamed with the laughter of the Gods. All was in place for the final act.**

**Lorgar stood from his praying position, and reached out with his mind, calling to his sons. It was time for the Word Bearers to go to war.**

The room was silent, and the tech priest played a line that summed up everyone's feelings, "What a twist."


	12. prince of the eye part eight

This was made by Zahariel

s/13366753/8/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-6#post-59603197

* * *

Curiosity griped the room as the tech priest played the next holovid, as all wondered why the gathering of traitors was called the broken conclave. It was obvious a treachery was going to occur, the divisive nature of chaos was its biggest weakness, but the specifics were unknown.

**Horus spoke to his brothers, and they listened. Even Fulgrim, who loathed letting anyone but himself holding the spotlight; even Angron, whose every thought was consumed by bloodlust, hatred and pain. The Warmaster did not try to assign blame for their defeat at Terra. Instead, he claimed that while they had been forced to retreat, they had still succeeded in accomplishing the rebellion's first and most important goal. Horus raised his Talon, and all present saw the red streaks of the Emperor's own blood, forever marking the metal of the weapon forged by Kelbor-Hal. **

The Emperor and Horus both cringed at this sight, Horus for the pride his counterpart obviously felt while the Emperor was disgusted at the fact that his blood was marring Horus's weapon.

**Though Horus was careful not to proclaim the False Emperor dead yet, he confidently declared that He had been crippled, His plans to enslave Mankind and turn the species into fodder for His ascension to godhood in ruins. Now, they, the true heirs of the Great Crusade's legacy, must free the galaxy from His lies and carve the future of Mankind across the stars.**

**It was as Horus was about to lay down his vision for the Long War that Lorgar made his move. By that point, less than ten minutes had passed since the last arrival and the beginning of the Conclave.**

Before the video had played a little bet had arose between the family on how long it would take before the treachery that broke the conclave happened. The tech priest had bet less than ten minutes while the others were more specific, and the Emperor and the Primarchs all gave the tech priest a few thrones each, to which the tech priest said, "Make it rain."

**"No matter how you try to disguise it, the truth remains, brother. You lost. You failed, just as I knew you would. You are weak, Horus. You held the galaxy in your grasp and you let it slip away."**

**Lorgar to Horus, at the Broken Conclave**

Lorgar looked guilitily at Horus, but the look in the eyes of Horus told him that he held no ill will towards Lorgar.

**Lorgar drew his weapon, the crozius named Illuminarum, which had been forged for him by Ferrus Manus in an earlier, more innocent age. As he did so, Erebus and Kor Phaeron spoke un-words of command, and the seventeen figures which had accompanied the Aurelian threw off their hoods, revealing themselves as Daemonhosts of great power, their true nature concealed thus far by the ritual wardings carved onto the flesh of their mortal vessels. Bound by the will of the Dark Apostle and the Master of the Faith, these infernal creations of the Word Bearers launched themselves at Horus, while Lorgar gathered his own power to strike, reciting words from a language that had been dead before Mankind had risen from Old Earth's primordial slime.**

**At the sight of Lorgar's assault, the other Primarchs began to move to intervene, though it wasn't certain in whose favor. But before any of them could reach the confrontation, Magnus the Red and his sons raised a barrier separating Horus and his would-be killers from the rest of the room. The Crimson King glared at the Warmaster, his one eye filled with hatred.**

Magnus was curious, wondering what his counterpart was doing.

**"Did you really think I did not know who it was that told Russ to kill me and my sons ? Did you really think me so blind to your manipulations, brother ? I knew. I have always known, from the moment the Wolves came to burn all that I had wrought. And now, you will pay."**

**Magnus to Horus, at the Broken Conclave**

Magnus looked at Russ hatefully, blaming him for the destruction of his home. After all, Horus didn't have the power to countermand an order made by the Emperor.

**Seeking vengeance for the fate of Prospero, Magnus had contacted Lorgar as soon as the call to the Conclave had been sent. The Crimson King and the Aurelian had once been friends as well as brothers, before Magnus' reticence in helping Lorgar's downfall to Chaos and his own growing madness after his maiming at Russ' hands had soured their relationship. Speaking mind-to-mind over incomprehensible distances, the two Primarchs had forged an alliance, united in their common opposition to Horus. Both of them wanted the Warmaster dead, and the Conclave was their best shot at eliminating him.**

Lorgar and Magnus were conflicted, they were happy there friendship survived there corruption, but unhappy about there corruption.

**Even as Horus fought off the Daemonhosts, he could see his hopes of uniting the Traitor Legions under his leadership once more turn to dust in the corner of his eyes. The divisive nature of Chaos was reasserting itself now that Lorgar had broken the truce.**

**Enraged by the use of sorcery, Angron lost what little control he had, and launched himself at the Crimson King. His first blow was repelled by another psychic shield, and before he could strike again, Fulgrim burrowed a long, needle-thin blade into his back, laughing all the while. Mortarion attacked Magnus as well, his long-held disdain of sorcery only strengthened by his allegiance to Nurgle, the Dark God opposed to Tzeentch, Magnus' own puppetmaster. Perturabo's Iron Circle had surrounded him, shielding him from the mayhem while the Lord of Iron watched it all unfold with dispassionate eyes. Alpharius was already gone, vanished back into the shadows from which he had appeared, and Curze was observing the scene with a wide, crazed smile while his warriors remained at his side, weapons drawn, but unsure what their lord wanted them to do.**

The room was silent, watching the conflict with mute horror.

**All of this happened in the time it took Horus to dispatch all seventeen Daemonhosts. Less than ten seconds had passed since the beginning of the hostilities, but it had been enough for Lorgar to gather his strength. With a great cry that was half-triumph, half-prayer to the Dark Gods, Lorgar unleashed his spell upon the Warmaster.**

Lorgar was disgusted at the cry that his counterpart unleashed.

**The curse was ancient, and amplified by Lorgar's terrible power. Reality cracked and bled as it flew, leaving a trail blackness through which hungry eyes peered, only to withdraw as they took in just who was present on the other side of the rift. It struck Horus in the chest, and for a moment the Warmaster stumbled, his face paling, the dark fire of his aura flickering.**

The tech priest counted down, "three, two, one."

**Then, suddenly, Horus stood straight, his eyes aflame with power, Lorgar's curse slipping from him impotently. He marched toward Lorgar, who raised his weapon in defence, only for Illuminarum to be knocked aside by a casual blow before Horus rammed the Talon into his chest with such strength that the armored Primarch was lifted up the ground. As the claws of the Talon met the wards of Lorgar's armor, a psychic shockwave filled the room, and the four Daemon Primarchs felt their power diminish as the attention of their patron gods was now turned elsewhere.**

**Lorgar, his chest pierced by the Talon, his blood flowing from the wounds in torrent, ignited. On the verge of death, the Arch-Priest of the Primordial Truth was receiving his masters' ultimate blessing – and their most terrible curse. The blades of the Talon slipped free as Lorgar's gene-forged flesh dissolved. A horned, blazing skull glared at the Warmaster, before a blow from Worldbreaker shattered the hold on corporeality of the newly ascended Daemon Primarch. With a bitter laugh and the promise that this was merely the beginning of Horus' torments, Lorgar vanished. With his departure, the ambient Warp energies plummeted, and the four other God-marked Daemon Primarchs also faded away, Angron with a terrible scream of rage, Fulgrim with a pristine, mocking laughter, Mortarion with a series of Barbarian curses, and Magnus with one last enigmatic glance at Horus before drawing his sons along with him. Only Perturabo remained, his physical form maintained by the technomancy infused within his Warped flesh.**

Each of the so called god marked primarchs reflected on the fact that they would do what there corrupted counterparts did if they were in that situation. Angron knew that he would roar in rage, Fulgrim would laugh mockingly, Mortarion would curse in his native tongue and Magnus would indeed cast an enigmatic gaze, even if only for the value in psychological warfare.

**Horus turned to where Erebus and Kor Phaeron had stood, but the two Word Bearers were also gone, using their sorcery to escape his wrath and flee back to the Trisagion, which was already turning to plunge back into the storm. The rest of the gathered ships were also departing, only the Vengeful Spirit and the Umbrea Insidior remaining behind. After one last exchange with Horus, Perturabo teleported back aboard the Ironblood, and left Zu'lasa as well.**

**"I have heard your plans, and I do believe they have merit. But Magnus is my brother too, Horus, and you sent the Wolves after him. I will not command my sons to die in a war waged for your pride. Prove that you are still worthy of my loyalty, and I shall be at your side until the end."**

**Perturabo to Horus, at the Broken Conclave**

Perturabo reflected on how his corrupted counterpart said the very thing he would say, and like the so called god marked primarchs he was uneasy.

**Only Curze and his escort remained behind. As Horus looked upon him, wondering what his mad sibling would do next, the Night Haunter bowed before the Warmaster, promptly followed by his sons, who knelt before the chosen champion of the Ruinous Powers. Never before, not even when the Traitor Legions had gathered on Isstvaan, had Curze displayed such submission to Horus. Konrad promised his brother that his Legion would stand alongside his own against his enemies, the Thousand Sons and the Word Bearers.**

**For a long moment, Horus watched Curze, before nodding, accepting the offer. Then he returned to the Vengeful Spirit, and the ship set course for Maeleum while Curze returned to Kerlazium to make preparations for what was to come.**

**Alone on his black throne the walls around him trembling softly in rythm with the engines of the Vengeful Spirit, every door and secret passage locked and guarded by his faithful Justaerin, Horus finally allowed himself to relax. His calm mask collapsed into a grimace of pain. Blood seeped from the wound in his side, where the Emperor had struck him in their duel.**

**Lorgar's attack had forced him to use all of his power to counter it, and in the time that had taken, the wound had opened again. He was confident he had managed to hide it from the rest of his brothers, but if any of them ever discovered the truth … If they ever discovered that he could no longer use the fullness of his might for more than a handful of seconds before that wound reopened and he started bleeding out … There was no telling how even his sons would react.**

**He could no longer take risks like the conclave had been. For now, all his brothers had seen was that he was still as strong as ever : even Lorgar, with his cowardly ambush and the help of Magnus, had not been able to take him down. But he could not fight on the front lines of this new War, lest his condition be exposed. Instead of a warrior-king, he needed to be a general, guiding his troops and only taking to the field in controlled conditions.**

Horus looked relived and the tech priest noted, "Hope survives for this worlds Imperium. Lord Horus is a great stratigest, but the physical and psychic might he possesses in this timeline is unuseable. Indeed, that wound will undoubtedly be where Lord Sanguinius strikes and kills him." Dorn looked like he was about to respond, but he decided against it when he saw Perturabo's eager face.

**He would triumph, no matter what. He would cast his father down, and rule over Mankind. The defeat at the Siege, his wound, Lorgar's and Magnus' petulant rebellion : those were naught but setbacks. No matter what obstacles fate placed in his way, victory would be his.**

**And so began the Legion Wars. **

The tech priest was absolutely fancinated, and he just couldn't help but say why he was. In his melodical voice he noted, "I am fancinated to see how the legion wars go with Lord Horus leading one side. It is not a initial conflict between Slannesh and Khorne like in the Horus Heresy but an all out conflict from the start." Perturabo looked to the Emperor, obviously wanting to strike the tech priest, but the Emperor shook his head.


	13. shape of the nightmare to come part two

this is made by LordLucan

Story:The Shape Of The Nightmare To Come 50k section01 - 1d4chan

* * *

The tech priest played the next holovid, dread curiosity fueling there actions. they wanted to know how the fifty thousandth millennium was worse than the forty thousandth. the intro was a good summary, but they wanted specifics. Maybe the grimmer and darker future could aid them in preventing the Imperium from coming to ruin.

**In those dark, early decades of the ten thousand years of pain, before hope had completely died, the forces of the Despoiler made their move. As the whole galaxy convulsed in pain and terror, as the Imperium was gutted by the New Devourer's rampages, Abaddon and his 20th Crusade finally, irrevocably, defeated the Imperial blockade around the Eye of Terror. At last, Cadia fell to his forces. Beasts, daemons, madmen and monstrous Astartes swarmed over every world in the systems surrounding the tear in reality. Though pockets of resistance held out for far longer than expected, each Imperial bastion, Inquisitorial fortress and Space Marine Chapter were overcome in those centuries of woe.**

Roboute let out a hmm and said, "I thought it only took Abbadon thirteen black crusades to break Cadia, not twenty." The tech priest replied, "You are correct Lord Roboute, the goal of all of Abbadon's black crusades was to walk the Crimson Path. His goal was elegant in its simplicity, destabilize the Necron Pilon network that keeps the Eye of Terror in check and cleft the galaxy in twain." The tech priest didn't attempt to explain why it seemed at odds for Abbadon's actions here, mainly because he didn't know.  
**  
The Imperium was finally overreaching itself, and Abaddon punished it for its laxity, carving out a domain spanning nearly an entire segmentum. Yet, of all the myriad worlds Abaddon conquered, none was more precious to him than the great bastion itself: Cadia.**

Horus got closer to the screen, wanting to see what his son had done.  
**  
Cadia was a symbol of his ultimate triumph over the High Lords of Terra, and his defiance of their feeble attempts to contain him. Though initially the world burned in slaughter and barbarism, eventually, Abaddon forged the planet into something else entirely. He repaired the ravaged Kasrs, their formidable fortifications admired by Abaddon. He had learned to grimly respect Cadia, as it had thwarted him again and again for millennia before. He remade Cadia into a dark and twisted reflection of its former glory. The Despoiler wished to show to all that while Chaos was a destroyer and unmaker of things, it could also represent glory and creation.**

The Emperor scoffed and said, "SO MANY HAVE FALLEN BECAUSE OF THAT VERY DECEPTION." Rogal just noted, "Doesn't chaos represent everything?" The Emperor said in response, "YES. PERTURABO, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO." Perturabo quickly hit Rogal so hard he slammed into the wall, and Rogal noted, "I can taste purple." The tech priest chuckled at this.  
**  
Vast banners and triumphal arches were built by countless toiling, broken slaves. Statues of great horned Daemon Princes and Chaos Space Marines lined boulevards and avenues. The Imperial Aquila remained in view everywhere, but each was carefully defaced with the sign of the eight-pointed star of Chaos in place of the twin heads of the eagle.**

Most of the room was enraged by this desecration of the Imperium's icon, only Rogal wasn't and that was because he was woozily returning to his chair.

**Though most Cadians had been murdered during the first weeks of the invasion, some had survived. Fallen Kasrkin and traitor guardsmen, numbering in their hundreds only, were kept alive by Abaddon. He promised them wondrous gifts and power, but demanded that they create him a force like the Cadian regiments of old. Thus, the twisted inhabitants of New Cadia were forcibly made to learn the way of war, from the ancient remnants of the original Traitor Cadians. Within a century, Abaddon had crafted a new force within his empire. These new 'dark Cadians' named themselves simply 'The Despoiled'. They were elite, brutal, and utterly loyal to Abaddon, who they worshipped as the voice of the Chaos Gods themselves.**

The sight of hordes of humanity with the purple eyes that was indicative of Cadians praising Chaos and proudly bearing the title of despoiled enraged the rooms. In the realms of the chaos gods fire winged angels attacked the realms of the gods.

**Inevitably, following the defeat of the Imperials, the chaotic alliance fractured, as each of the Legions and chaotic war bands fought amongst themselves, each Lord or Daemon Prince desiring dominance over the other equally arrogant and selfish rulers of their rival war bands. Abaddon was no different, and he joined in the fighting, seeking to consolidate his realm of chaotic madness into a new Dark Imperium. Many of his rivals, the Daemonic Primarchs Angron and Perturabo in particular, were disgusted that Abaddon wanted to bring order to the blessed chaos of their current situation. They forged an alliance, and declared war upon Abaddon's Dark Imperium. This declaration was a miscalculation on the two Primarchs' part. This forced other Chaos warbands to choose sides.**

Angron and Perturabo began paying more attention to the video, Angron preparing more ibuprofen to take.

**The Word Bearers, for the most part, joined Abaddon almost immediately, as their visions of a Dark Imperium fitted with his to a certain extent. This brought a considerable number of Marines under Abaddon's control, and the Word Bearers also brought with them truly phenomenally huge hordes of slave-soldiers and cultists. The Black Legion of course sided with Abaddon, as they were to benefit the most from his ascendancy to rule of the Chaotic realm. The other Legions, utterly decentralized by thousands of years of distrust and civil war, were formed into warbands, attached to no one ruler in particular. They shifted allegiance between the alliance of Angron and Perturabo and Abaddon's camp almost annually during the conflict, although the majority of warbands followed Abaddon at any given time. Also, where most of the human vassal forces controlled by the Angron and Perturabo alliance were simply rabbles of mutants and cultist scum militia, Abaddon had crafted the vast force of 'The Despoiled', whose numbers swelled massively by more and more traitor Guardsmen recruits, from either Cadia herself or coming from other planets, desperate for some military discipline once more.**

**In naval terms the Primarch forces seemed outmatched once more. Abaddon's navy was one third larger than that of Perturabo and Angron, who were still reliant upon the Eye of Terror to sustain them. Abbadon was free to seize and command more of the fallen Imperial vessels beyond the Eye. In addition, the Despoiler still had the Planet Killer and the remaining Blackstone Fortresses under his control.**

None of the watchers wanted either force to win.  
**  
The war was a long and bloody one, like most of the wars Chaos ever fights are. Abaddon's forces initially reeled from the violent assault of the two Primarch's furious forces. Attempting to mimick Horus' lightning swift assault upon Terra, Angron sent his forces directly for New Cadia, smashing aside blockades and ravaging worlds in his way. Abaddon, though, was no fool. He had helped Horus formulate this very strategy, and predicted that Angron would be foolish enough to try it. His navy was seemingly absent when Angron's forces made planetfall upon New Cadia. However, they had been waiting. His vast fleet struck at the berserker Primarch's supply vessels. Unaware of the sudden danger until it was too late, they were decimated. Stranded upon New Cadia, Angron nevertheless reaped a massive toll upon the planet. Yet, weakened by the pylons and the waves upon waves of human blanks Abaddon forced to charge at the berserker, he eventually succumbed, defeated by a group of the Black Legions' highest ranked chosen, combined perfectly with a well timed orbital strike, which banished Angron from Cadia.**

Angron was now enraged at his own corrupted self, shouting to the screen, "That didn't work when all of the traitor legions were doing it, why would it work now?!"  
**  
Angron's seemingly foolish charge into Abaddon's den, however, had been a mere distraction to give Perturabo time to complete his great work. With the aid of several Dark Mechanicus clans, and a sacrifice of a billion souls to the Soul Forge, the Daemon Primarch had completed the Goliath Engine.**

The tech priest would have paled if he had skin, and knew a horrible blashempy upon the sacredness of machinery was about to appear on screen.

**A vast construction of daemonic iron, coiling semi-organic machinery, cursed runes, injected Obliterator virus and other hateful devices and technologies were combined perfectly in the titanic vessel. Supplanting even the Planet Killer in its scale, the daemonic machine soon thundered from Perturabo's forge docks, at the head of the largest fleet the he could muster around him. Such was the dark powers crafted within the vessel, it allowed Perturabo to command his battle fleet personally, even beyond the Eye's nourishing anarchy. Over the ravaged Nurgle Daemon World of Thrashing Puxshar, the two vast forces, one serving anarchy and disintegration, the other merely Chaos, clashed for supremacy. Despite the size of Abaddon's fleet, Perturabo was a Primarch, and his naval skill was formidable. One of the Blackstone Fortresses succumbed to the Goliath Engine's massive weapons and crashed into the stagnant Daemon World beneath them.**

The Emperor paled, for he knew if such a thing could be made, a weapon that could allow a daemon permenant acess to the materium, he doubted his Imperium could survive unscathed. Tzeentch filed the plans for the Goliath Engine and made his cults get to work, but consider the fracutius nature of chaos in general and Tzeentch specifically it was doubtful any progress would be made before the actual 50th millennium.

**Thousands of ships clashed together in the sprawling melee in the void. Daemonic gunships dueled with multi-tiered ex-Imperial vessels, and Legion cruisers smashed into other, equally chaotic vessels. Space inside the swirling madness of the Eye was further filled with the myriad exchanges of devastating firepower flung between the disparate fleets. At the height of the battle, the Planet Killer and the Goliath Engine clashed. Broadsides, torpedoes, daemonic fire, putrid tendrils of Warp-stuff: all were cast against the other in the brutal and blistering engagement. Abaddon's flagship even managed to fire its most deadly guns upon the Goliath Engine, but to no avail. In the Eye, the ship was immortal, the living machinery of the ship dragging itself together after each exchange.**

The battle was very epic, entrancing much of the room with its awesomeness.

**Seemingly bested, the Planet Killer fled before the might of the Goliath Engine. Perturabo, eager for final crushing victory, roared off in pursuit. He caught the extremely damaged Planet Killer, fleeing in the void between worlds, in the Illirax system. Confident of victory, the Primarch engaged the Planet Killer and the few escorts that had fled with Abaddon. However, when it seemed victory was finally certain, the tables turned once again. Exiting from the warp a month previously, the Terminus Est and attendant fleet of disgusting Nurglish vessels had lingered in the Illirax system, on the request of Abaddon. Upon exiting the warp, the Goliath Engine soon came under attack from its eastern quadrant as an entire fleet descended upon it. Later known as the Battle of Bile and Iron, Perturabo's Goliath Engine was outmatched. Abaddon had skillfully drawn him away from the Eye's daemonic sustenance, and weakened the vessel. No longer was it invulnerable. However, it was still formidable, and Typhus lost many vessels in the resulting battle.**

The sight of his corrupted first captain brought Mortarion much sadness. The underling problems that would have damned Typhus had been prevented, but it still hurt him.  
**  
As the Engine burned and collapsed around him, Perturabo raged, and determined to finish it once and for all. The death of Abaddon would end the war instantly. He ordered his surviving Iron Warriors to teleport with him, onto the planet Killer, and engage Abaddon in single combat. However, unlike Horus, Abaddon was no fool. The teleport failed miserably, as Abaddon's shields remained firmly up. Perturabo was flung back into the Goliath Engine, in time to witness the Planet Killer fire its doomsday cannon. The warp cannon smashed through the crippled machine, and detonated its daemonic heart. Screaming in impotent rage, Perturabo was banished back to the warp. Soon after the battle Typhus withdrew to the Eye, taking his fleet with him. When inquired as to why Typhus had aided Abaddon, he cryptically responded:**

Now it was Perturabo's turn to rage at the screen, but unlike Angron he had no words.

**"Flowers bloom, flowers rot. Rot is nothing without order to decay."**

Alpharius/Omegon noted, "Well ain't" "That ominous"  
**  
Deprived of both leaders, Perturabo and Angron's alliance soon collapsed, and the more unified forces of the Dark Imperium triumphed, driving their foes into the deepest depths of the Eye. Following this victory Abaddon expanded his Dark Imperium into an empire of hundreds upon hundreds of worlds around New Cadia. Oddly enough, many worlds submitted to his rule instantly, even worlds who despised Chaos and still worshipped the Emperor. In a time of such horrendous anarchy, any order is craved by the civilized. Ironically, the only thing resembling order in Segmentum Obscurus was Abaddon's Dark Imperium. Former Imperial Worlds hid their signs of worship to the Emperor and openly welcomed The Despoiled regiments, who swiftly took over the main PDF centres. Often, there was little to no opposition to this. This was not a religious matter. This was intensely secular. Most governor knew that the only way to survive in the millennium of pain was to be part of something bigger.**

The Emperor was disgusted at the fact that a Chaos based empire was the best hope for order in this timeline. The room was silent at there horror at this revelaton.


	14. prince of the eye part nine

This is made by Zahariel

s/13366753/9/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-9#post-59664058

* * *

The tech priest began the next video, as the family wondered how the legion wars would go down.

**With the last hope of unity among the damned lost, the Eye of Terror became the battleground of the Traitor Legions as they made war against each other. On Sortiarius, Lorgar and Magnus met, and forged the Crimson Accords : a set of treaties by which the alliance between the Thousand Sons and the Word Bearers, begun in the failed attempt to kill Horus at Zu'lasa, was solidified. As part of this alliance, each Legion sent an ambassador to the other's homeworld. Lorgar's envoy to the Planet of the Sorcerers was the Dark Apostle Angra Kalar, while Magnus dispatched a Sorcerer named Ptolemeraz to Sicarius. The two of them were warriors who had distinguished themselves during the rebellion, but had only recently been elevated to positions of power – Angra Kalar after the Word Bearers are reformed at Sicarius, Ptolemeraz after the Rubric had decimated his Legion.**

**Both emissaries were allowed only a token honor guard : the Dark Apostle chose a few of his most loyal disciples, while the Thousand Son was accompanied by a handful of silent, soul-dead Rubricae. The two quickly built strongholds on their appointed daemon worlds, and through the common sorcery of Lorgar and Magnus, a permanent portal was opened between these locations, allowing warriors from both Legions to travel back and forth between the two planets instantly. Soon, the embassies became a nexus of activities, as warriors sought to renew old friendships with their cousins, or forge new ones. Angra Kalar and Ptolemeraz especially worked together, and the fruits of their collaboration made their embassies unsettling, dangerous places, even for the Eye.**

The very fact that not only could there be places worse than daemon worlds but that there sons could create such places troubled both Magnus and Lorgar.  
**  
Dark lore flowed between the two Legions as well. The libraries of Sortiarius, containing what had been salvaged from Prospero as well as what the Thousand Sons had been able to plunder during the Heresy, had plenty to offer to the Word Bearers, whose mastery of rituals and practice with the infernal was greater than that of the Fifteenth Legion in some areas. The Seventeenth Legion also had access to much greater resources than the Thousand Sons, whose numbers, always smaller than any other Legion, had been decimated by the Burning of Prospero and Ahriman's ill-fated Rubric.**

The Emperor noted to Magnus and Lorgar, "I HAVE MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THIS. I FEEL HAPPY THAT YOU TWO REMAIN FREINDS, BUT I AM UNHAPPY AS TO THE FACT THAT YOU AND YOUR LEGIONS ARE CORRUPTED SO THOUROUGHLY."  
**  
Across the two daemon worlds, Sorcerers and Dark Apostles summoned and bound Neverborn into their service, gathering an infernal legion of a size rarely seen before in galactic history, and never under mortal command. Thousands of daemons were chained to the will of the Legionaries, to be used as shock troops by the Crimson Accords. Circles of Astartes worked together and burned the souls of thousands of lesser witches in order to draw out and control more powerful members of the infernal choirs, from the Greater Daemons of the Primordial Truth to the Daemon Princes who had once been mortal.**

The tech priest waxed poetically, "And so the legions of hell arise at the whim of witches and zealots, to wage war upon the adversary who would see heaven brought down for his fathers love of mere humans." Many in the room were impressed by this turn of phrase, which perfectly described the situation they were watching and would not be out of place in a holy book.  
**  
Meanwhile, in Horus' domain, the World Eaters and Emperor's Children that the Warmaster had rallied at Skalathrax had broken apart. The conflict between Fulgrim and Angron at Zu'lasa had echoed through the blood of their sons, and they had broken their vows of service to Horus rather than serve alongside those they despised.**

The Emperor snarked, "WHO DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING." Rogal opened his mouth but was cut off by Perturabo hitting him.  
**  
The eight warlords Horus had chosen to govern the Twelfth Legion led their brothers away from the Sixteenth Legion's territory. Knowing that the Legion couldn't hope to remain united for long before turning on itself, they divided the forces under their command into eight lesser hosts, giving individual leaders the choice of which of the eight they would follow. After that, they spread across the Eye, seeking bloodshed to appease the biting of the Butcher's Nails. The Eye of Terror provided plenty of battlegrounds for them to join. The daemon worlds of Khorne, and those forever fought over by the Ruinous Powers, drew them like moths to a flame, often with the same conclusion. But though many sons of Angron perished in these wars, fought only for the sake of fighting, the survivors grew strong, their bodies slowly reforged by the Warp and the favor of the God of War. Some fought on the battlefields of the Legion Wars, either because of ancient debts owed to individuals on one side or the other, or as wild berzerkers, uncaring who they killed so long as the blood flowed. The Word Bearers, thanks to their experience in the Shadow Crusade, were the most able to manipulate the fury of the Twelfth to serve their own end – but even they paid a price in blood sooner or later, which they accepted as the God of War's holy due.**

Angrons anger at himself and his shame at what his sons could very well become was palpable.  
**  
The Emperor's Children, having heard of their Primarch's return and subsequent disappearance, refused to kneel to Horus any longer, their pride demanding that they serve no one but their own gene-sire if they were to serve any Primarch at all. Fully aware that many in the Eye blamed the Third Legion's raids upon Terra's population for the rebellion's failure, the sons of Fulgrim banded together, out of self-preservation rather than brotherhood. They conquered several daemon worlds and, using the slaves filling the holds of their ships, built vast, decadent cities and palaces there. The glory of Slaanesh flowed through them, inspiring them in equal measure to the ruination it had already visited upon them. They crafted horrible wonders and learned many secrets, which they used to further their own ends. In immense, gilded arenas, the champions of the Legion duelled against each other as well as against creatures and monsters coming from all across the Eye. In these kingdoms, the daemons of Slaanesh walked openly, devouring the Emperor's Children's mortal slaves after granting them one brief, ecstatic glimpse of the Dark Prince's perfection. All that mattered to the Emperor's Children was their own pursuit of excess : their only part in the Legion Wars was when some warlord or another gathered an army to raid the lesser outposts of other Legions in order to capture more slaves for their pits.**

Fulgrim blushed in a combination of rage, disgust and fear of the things that were once his sons.  
**  
Only the Night Lords remained allied with the Sons of Horus, and though Curze was in command of the largest Astartes force in the Eye, the Eighth Legion had even fewer Sorcerers than the Sons of Horus. The Horusians, as the alliance of warriors loyal to the Warmaster came to be known, were at a decisive disadvantage where sorcery was concerned, and in the Eye of Terror, where reality itself was endlessly reshaped by the souls walking it, that was a dangerous weakness.**

Guilliman hummed in thought and concluded one simple fact, which he said aloud. "If sourcery is vital in war within a warp storm, then the Horusians are screwed."  
**  
Mere months after the Conclave, the Crimson Accords attacked the Horusians. At the head of the onslaught were the daemonic hordes, unleashed upon the worlds of the Warmaster's dominion with barely any care given to strategy. The Neverborn crashed against the Horusian defences like a tide, leaving the defenders vulnerable to the precision strikes of the Word Bearers and the sorcery of the Thousand Sons. The Sons of Horus fought with all their might, reinforced by troops sent from Kerlazium by Curze – though controlling the more degenerate Night Lords was a challenge in itself.**

The battle on screen was epic, and it truly matched the idea of demons attacking fallen angels.  
**  
But even then, slowly, the Horusians were losing. Outpost after outpost, stronghold after stronghold, world after world were falling to the forces of the Crimson Accords. Whole fortresses were lost to single Sorcerers, who used their powers to get into the minds of the defenders and turn them against one another or cause catastrophic accidents. Those few outposts which had a Sorcerer of their own to hold the psychic intrusions at bay and ward the walls from daemons were besieged by Word Bearers War Hosts, each led by a Dark Apostle – who was often a Sorcerer himself.**

**Seeing which way the wind was blowing, the other powers of the Eye aligned themselves with the Crimson Accords. Dark Mechanicum forge-worlds, Fallen Knight households, renegade Navy fleets and Army Regiments pledged their support to the two Daemon Primarchs. Many did so out of a desire to be on the side of the Legion Wars' victor, while others sought revenge against Horus and his sons, believing that it was them who had cost the rebels the war.**

Such casual treachery did nothing to increase the ire of the family against chaos, because nothing chaos could possibly do could make the family hate them more.  
**  
Maeleum itself did not come under attack : whether the forces of the Crimson Accords feared Horus' power, or wanted to make the Warmaster watch his dominion burn before going for the kill, they left the Sixteenth Legion's new homeworld alone. They didn't need to hurry : if nothing changed, their victory was inevitable. But Horus had never been one to let such challenges go unanswered, and he sought a mean to turn the tides of the Legion Wars.**

**The plain and simple truth was that the Horusians needed more Sorcerers. Training Librarians and mortal witches was a stop-gap at best, a desperate move at worst. But there was one group of Sorcerers who had good reason to stand against the alliance of Magnus and Lorgar : the remnants of Ahriman's Cabal. Ahriman had been banished from Sortiarius for casting the Rubric, the spell that had all but murdered the Thousand Sons. His cabal had been banished along with him, and they had fled from the wrath of Magnus and their own brothers.**

Lion nodded and said, "That makes perfect sense. Except even after the Rubric Ahriman is still loyal to Magnus. His whole search for the black library is to perfect the Rubric and undo his sin." Horus concurred with his brother and said, "I wonder how my counterpart will gain the loyalty of the cabal."  
**  
With the rise of the Crimson Accords, these exiled were being hunted. Magnus may have sentenced them to being cast out, but those who had watched their brothers turn to dust before their eyes craved revenge. As a result, they had gone to ground, hiding in the most unlikely places or finding refuge among the warbands of other Legions – several had been recruited by the Emperor's Children, who enjoyed their misery and their skills at daemon summoning.**

The knowledge of the Rubric still saddened Magnus, and he knew if his counterpart wasn't just a puppet of Tzeentch he would also seek vengeance for the disasterious effects of the Rubric.  
**  
Never one to use half-mesures, Horus summoned a powerful daemon of Tzeentch and bound it to reveal to him the location of Ahriman himself. When the daemon failed to answer, Horus destroyed its physical form and sent its spirit shrieking back into the Warp, before summoning the next one. The thirteenth daemon thus summoned managed to bargain for its existence : though it did not know where Ahriman had fled to (for the exiled First Captain had covered his tracks well), it knew where Horus could start to look. And so Horus left Maeleum, giving command of the Horusian war effort to his Mournival.**

The fact that twelve Tzeentician Daemons didn't have a clue where Ahriman was and that only one Daemon had a clue where he was caused many of the Primarchs to respect Magnus's first captain more, espically considering Ahriman was the champion of Tzeentch.  
**  
How long the Warmaster was gone for is difficult to tell : on some battlefields, decades passed without his advice and aid, while he reappeared on Maeleum only nine weeks after his departure. As the Primarch walked out of a rift in reality and into his throneroom, at his side stood Ahzek Ahriman.**

**'You were the one who sent the Wolves to kill us all. Why would I ever follow you ?'**

**'What price would convince you, Ahzek ?'**

**The Exile laughed bitterly.**

**'Can you restore Prospero ? Can you unmake the Rubric ? Can you remove the curse of the flesh-change without it killing my Legion ?'**

**Horus smiled …**

**Whatever Horus offered to or threatened Ahriman with, the Exile accepted the Warmaster's offer. His first task was to journey across the Eye and make contact with the other members of his cabal, scattered throughout the storm after their banishment from Sortiarius. One by one, Ahriman found them, and brought them into the fold. These Cabalites then followed him to Maeleum, where they began to work on countering the sorcerous advantage of the Crimson Accords.**

Magnus himself was curious as to what the corrupted Horus could have offered his first capitan, considering Horus smiled when he asked those questions.  
**  
Many Sons of Horus were in awe of their Primarch's power, and had been since he had claimed it on Molech. They remembered the awesome displays of his might that he had performed during the rebellion, and now, with enemies of the Legion pressing in, they sought to emulate him by taking in the power of the Warp within themselves. With the help of the Cabalites, thousands of them walked into the fires of the Empyrean, and those who emerged were transformed into Secondborn, granted increased strength and resilience by the daemons now sharing their flesh. Despite the losses incurred in such transformations, these Possessed Marines proved a boon to the Sons of Horus, capable of fighting the daemonic hordes of the Crimson Accords on equal ground.**

Horus was disgusted and appalled that his sons would willingly be possesed.  
**  
Between the recruitment of Ahriman's Cabalites and this influx of Secondborn, the imminent defeat that had loomed over the Horusians was banished. But the advantage in the Legion Wars was still very much on Lorgar's and Magnus' side.**


	15. warhammer 45k part one

this was written by the stormlord

forum/threads/warhammer-45k.212112/#post-5050290

* * *

Constantin Valdor entered the viewing room where the Emperor and the Primarchs awaited him. They were reconvining here to continue the viewing and Valdor would enact any changes that were needed to the Adeptus Custodes or the other members of the hand of the Emperor. The biggest change was that Custodes armor was never to be removed, or even be able to be removed. No price was too high to avoid the nightmare that was known as the fabstodes. The tech priest was the first to notice him, and while bowing said, "Hail lord Valdor." The bow was the one the Tech Priest gave to Custodes, deeper than the bow that he gave to Astartes but not as deep as the one he gave the Primarchs and Malcador, or as deep as the one he gave the Emperor when bowing was required. The Emperor noticed him and said, "VALDOR, COME WATCH THIS FILE WITH US. WE CAN DISCUSS WHAT YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME ABOUT LATER." Valdor noted, "I wanted to discuss the ongoing efforts to ensure the fabstodes never exist." The entire room shuddered, remembering how they reacted to the degenerate being the compainions had become in the 41st millennium. Indeed, the Tech Priest recalled how he had removed his optics, cleaned them and upon seeing the fabstodes still on screen had run a full systems diagnostic on himself. The Emperor stated, "OK WE ARE DEFINITLY WATCHING THE VIDEO FIRST." The tech priest played the video without needing to be asked.

**The Recollections**

**In the year 176.M42, a terrible event occurred, one that tore our Imperium forever apart. The Golden Throne failed, its arcane mechanisms, broken beyond repair, finally giving out. Instants later, the Emperor ascended to the status of a God, his mortal body tearing itself apart. What happened next, no mortal man can truly say, for the Immaterium is ever-chaotic, impossible to describe. But its effects on the material realm are easy enough to describe. The new god born from the apotheosis of the Emperor was something new and terrible, the god of egotism and adoration, submission, of domination, of arrogance and pride, of the haughty tyrant and the cruel overseer, of power for power's sake, the will to impose oneself upon the universe at its fundamental core. This was not the Star Child we had hoped for - this was something unspeakable, a god of tyranny - the Holy Tyrant. The Aether disrupted itself in Segmentum Solar, new and more terrible Warp-storms enshrouding Terra and all nearby systems in a matter of moments. It is as such that we must turn to conjecture and data gleaned from the mad reports and rantings of those that reached the heart of the Eye.**

Valdor was shocked, the fact that his liege could become a chaos god was so anethitical to everything about both his lord and the nature of reality that he couldn't recognzile it. The Emperor just sighed a resigned sigh and noted, "IT SEEMS I BECOME A GOD WHENEVER I DIE." Valdor felt guility and said, "I am sorry I could not protect you from this my Emperor."  
**  
Moments after the Holy Tyrant had been born, Terra, cradle of mankind, imploded, as the Warp burst out into reality there. Untold trillions of souls were sucked into the growing vortex, the Tyrant drinking deep of their essence. It likewise took instants for the end to come to Venus and Mercury, as the planets were devoured by the screaming vortex where Terra had once been. Mars however found itself cast out from the Solar System, as the Tyrant sensed that another nascent Power had already claimed it. The spreading tide of madness slowed, taking hours to reach Jupiter, which was ignited as a newborn sun by the unspeakable power that is the Holy Tyrant. As the Tyrant spread his newfound might, Titan, home of the proud Grey Knights, ceased to exist as it was ripped apart by immense tidal forces. Not a single one survived.**

Ferrus Manus noted, "I wonder if the power controlling Mars is the Void Dragon or some unkown warp god." The Emperor shrugged, "I don't know. Adding Hashut to the mix of chaos is bad, but so is the only unshattered C'tan controlling Mars." Magnus was confused and asked, "Who is Hashut?" The Emperor responded latonically, "A Chaos God that no longer exists, like Malal. I'll tell you more about those two once the webway project is complete or if either becomes a threat, whichever comes first." The tech priest muttered in binary, "I'm getting 2001:A space Odyssey feels." Valdor just asked a question that was bugging him, "What are the Grey Knights?"  
**  
At the system's edge, the Eye of Terra ceased to expand, but still it remains, a terrible monument to the power that is the Holy Tyrant. Around it the Warp churns and storms, for the Tyrant is but another one of the powers of Chaos that we must face with all our might.**

**The Gospel of Tyranny**

Lorgar was annoyed now, "Looks like we're gonna hear more ravings from maddened zealots." This caused Valdor to look at him strangely, and he wondered how much he had missed.  
**  
And the Blessed Tyrant was Born like a butterfly from its shell from the flesh that had been the Emperor, no longer Flesh, no longer Matter, but pure liberated Potential, and He saw that He had need of servants. So He turned His gaze to Terra, and His guard, the ten thousand Custodians (as well as many upon Terra at the instant of His ascension), were liberated from their flesh, becoming the Leaders of Men, led by one terrible Master, Constantin Valdor, who is as His Herald.**

At this news Valdor fell to the floor with a resounding clang as Azurite hit the metal floor and started to sob underneath his helmet.  
**  
Their gold armour shines with the Brightness of His power, their Voice is Command, their Weapons are Death to all His enemies! And the Tyrant saw that he needed yet Greater Servants, so He took the souls of a thousand-strong Brotherhood of His Children, the Knights whose Armour was Grey, and fused them with the soul of the great Kaldor Draigo into one unstoppable entity, the Worldshaper, whose Presence shapes the Unliving as the Leaders of Men shape the minds of the Living. And yet others He has wrought - the Celestine, the Maker of Paths, the Mirror-Faced, among others - All for a specific Task.**

The eyes of most of the room widened, only Valdor did not understand the significance of this statement. After some wirring from the tech priests optics, he stated the obvious. "At least in the second age of strife the custodes and the grey knights stayed loyal to the true emperor. But here they are corrupted. that dosent bode well for anyone." Valdor stopped sobbing and repeated in a horrorfied tone, "Second age of strife?"  
**  
All hail the Holy Tyrant! Blessed be the name of our Master, Praise be unto Him, the Terrible One, the Lord of Light! PRAISE HIM WITH GREAT PRAISE, HE WHO REIGNETH AND LIVETH FOR EVER AND EVER!**

**Book of the Epistles of Lorgar**

Lorgar groaned and said, "More mad ravings from my Daemon primarch counterpart." Valdor repeated in a horrorfied tone, "Daemon Primarch?"  
**  
And the Fifth One did battle in the Aether with all Four of the True Gods at once, and He was upon the verge of victory, the Edge of Glory, when the Star Child, his own rejected compassion, turned against him, and did battle, and the Eye of Terra halted its expansion, for the Fifth One, born of false worship, with the mind of the Anathema a mighty voice among the many that had been sacrificed in his own foul name, could not win against such a foe, for it was himself. And mighty Tzeen'neth, whose very nature is Inconstancy and Liberation, laughed loudly, and the Great Game continued anew with one more player, a mad God that had held the keys to victory but could not have won for half his might was torn into fighting against Himself, until the rush of power he had gained in birth faded away and he was weakened...**

The tech priest then logically observed, "Ok, so this holy tyrant is on the same threat as the Star Father, despite having the custodes and grey knights on his side." The Emperor nodded and then turned to Valdor, "OK VALDOR, WHATS THE PROGRESS ON OPERATIOM STOP FABSTODES?" Valdor was mute from confusion and sorrow.


	16. prince of the eye part ten

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-9#post-59682508

s/13366753/10/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest put in the next holovid, and the imperial family wondered what would happen next in the eye of terror, what the corrupted Horus's next stratagem was.

**Fallen Angels in Hell **

Lion scowled and noted, "it seems like we're dealing with my corrupted sons now."  
**  
While the Legion Wars raged inside the Eye of Terror, history continued beyond its borders. On Caliban, Lion El'Jonson found his own foster father Luther leading a rebellion against the Imperium, along with all of the Dark Angels who had been left to guard the First Legion's homeworld. In the ensuing confrontation, the planet itself was destroyed, and Luther's followers were scattered by the Warp energies unleashed. The Fallen who had been fighting planetside were separated and cast across time and space, while those who had been manning the ships in defence of Luther's vision found themselves thrown deep into the Empyrean, emerging from the madness of the Realms of Chaos only to find themselves in the Eye of Terror.**

This interested Alpharius and Omegon, "It seems that" "In this timeline" "Some ships survived" "The assault on Caliban". Magnus, also interested, asked, "Did any ships of the fallen survive in the Horus Heresy." To this Lorgar noted, "If they did they were never mentioned."  
**  
These ships, and the thousands of Legionaries aboard them, did not arrive in a unified manner. Many were destroyed not long after their arrival, or had their crew driven mad by the unrelenting horror of the Eye of Terror. The survivors adapted, and, using sorcery taught to them by the heretical Librarians of Caliban, made contact with one another and gathered under the leadership of Vortigern, an officer of the First Legion whose battleship, With Blade Drawn, was the mightiest of the assembled fleet. With Caliban destroyed and Luther presumed dead, the first goal of the Fallen was survival : revenge against those who had destroyed their homeworld was second.**

The tech priest noted, "So those fallen on the ships have the same situation as those on Caliban. I don't know why but I expected something different."  
**  
This was not, however, how those who already dwelled in the Eye saw it. The Fallen's first contact with the Traitor Legions happened at Zethu, a daemon world under the control of the Word Bearers. When the sons of Lorgar saw the ships of the Fallen arrive, most of them bearing the iconography of the Dark Angels still, they believed that, somehow, the Imperium had found a way to pursue them all the way inside the Eye of Terror itself. Before Vortigern could even speak, the Word Bearers opened fire. The paranoia of the Fallen, honed in the years spent in conspiracy and betrayal on Caliban, served them well here, and they were able to defend themselves and crush the Seventeenth Legion outpost – only to realize their mistake when the wrath of the Crimson Accords turned against them. Several War Hosts of the Seventeenth Legion were dispatched to destroy the Dark Angels, and soon Vortigern found himself leading his brothers into a running battle across the Eye, going from one system to the next with little clue as to where they were going.**

**"It matters not whether these interlopers are still blindly loyal to the Corpse-Emperor or not. It is the will of the Gods that they be destroyed immediately. Take all your forces and hunt them down."**

**From a message sent by the Dark Council of Sicarius  
**  
The Emperor sighed and said, "THE EXCUSE OF FANATICS EVERYWHERE." ****

**Fighting for their lives against the Word Bearers, the Fallen eventually came to the attention of the Horusians. Vortigern found an outpost of the Sixteenth Legion, and recognized the heraldry of the Warmaster. In his desperation to survive, the Fallen Lord made contact with the Sons of Horus, explaining that he and his brothers had also rebelled against the False Emperor.**

**The commander of that outpost, a Son of Horus named Jelac the Thunder-Eyed, knew full well that the Horusians needed all the allies they could get. He welcomed Vortigern and his men, and after providing what repairs he could to their damaged ships, gave them guides to Maeleum, where they could make their case to Horus himself. Jelac was hoping that, by delivering such ripe recruits to his Warmaster, he could earn Horus' favor. This, however, never happened : mere hours after Vortigern's fleet had left Jelac's stronghold, the Word Bearers pursuing the Fallen arrived, and laid waste to the Sixteenth Legion outpost, killing every Son of Horus they found – including Jelac.**

Horus noted, "Well my evil counterpart needs every ally he can get. If Jelac weren't corrupted by Chaos I would congratulate him." Rogal asked, "Why not congragulate him now?" Horus looked at Rogal disbelivingly, "One, there is no Jelac in my legion. Two, if there was I wouldn't praise what him for what his corrupted counterpart did." He then nodded at Perturabo, who then gave Rogal a dope slap.  
**  
With the help of the Navigators provided by Jelac, the Fallen were able to navigate through the diminishing Horusian territories. In every system they crossed, Vortigern made sure to broadcast his intention of joining Horus on Maeleum, and managed to avoid any more incidents on the way to the Sons of Horus' homeworld. There were still perils on the journey, of course : the Eye of Terror is never kind to travellers. The Fallen fought against daemons manifesting aboard their vessels, and Vortigern directed his fleet in battle against vast void-leviathans – nightmarish creatures that may at some point have been ships, but had been so reshaped by the Warp as to be unrecognisable.**

The sight of the void-leviathans caused most of the room to recoil with disgust and fear.  
**  
As they continued their odyssey, both the Fallen's ships and the Astartes themselves were affected by the currents of the Warp. The emblems of the Dark Angels emblazoned on the vessels, which had caused the Word Bearers to attack them in the first place, were burned away, replaced by strange, medieval iconography that resembled that used by the Order on Caliban, albeit altered in subtle and sinister ways. The Fallen's bodies and armor were also twisted, taking aspects of the great beasts of Caliban. The higher a warrior stood in the hierarchy of Vortigern's great warband, the more pronounced these changes were : by the journey's end, Vortigern himself resembled a cross between a pagan idol of Old Earth's antiquity and an Astartes warrior.**

Lion seemed disturbed, as was the reasonable reaction to have when seeing the iconography of the organization that raised you altered in horrible ways and seeing your sons warped into horrible monsters.

**When they finally reached Maeleum, the Fallen found that they were expected : word of their coming had been sent ahead, using the sorcerous communications provided to the Horusians by the Cabalites. Vortigern was summoned by Horus, called to meet alone with the Warmaster in his throne room. Seeing the strength of Maeleum's defenses, the Fallen Lord obeyed, giving orders to his warriors to keep trying to ingratiate themselves with the Horusians, even if he should not survive his audience with the Warmaster. In the end, that was for nothing : Horus welcomed Vortigern.**

**Vortigern knelt, trying to conceal his nervousness. In his time, he had faced many things that would have terrified mere mortals : he had fought against xenos horrors, defied his Primarch, killed his own kin and made war against the infernal creatures of the Warp. But none of it compared to this – being in the presence of the Warmaster, his fate and that of his brothers hanging in his hands.**

None of the room was surprised he was nervious, but many did note his connection to reality was more pronounced than most chaos servants.  
**  
Horus reached with his left hand – the one not locked inside the Talon – and pressed his armored thumb against Vortigern's forehead. The touch was gentle, measured, yet Vortigern still felt as if his skull would crack. The Fallen Lord felt his skin burn where Horus was touching him, and when the Warmaster removed his hand, he saw his reflection in the marble floor : the Eye of Horus was now branded upon his forehead, a black mark against his skin, just between the antlers-shaped horns that sprouted from his skull.**

**'Welcome, Vortigern of the Fallen,' said the Warmaster. 'Welcome to my service.'**

**The first order Horus gave to Vortigern was to deal with the Word Bearers who had been set upon the trail of the Fallen. The sons of Lorgar had not abandoned their pursuit after killing Jelac : Horus had received reports of their presence within Horusian territory, hunting for the Fallen and avoiding the fleets of the Sixteenth and Eighth Legions. With the help of the Son of Horus commander Arken and the Night Lord warlord Diathrozek, Vortigern mounted an ambush against the War Hosts.**

**Using the Fallen fleet as bait, he drew the Word Bearers into battle, only for Arken's and Diathrozek's forces to emerge from the cover of a nearby nebulae of shrieking souls. So intent were the Word Bearers on accomplishing their Gods-appointed mission that they were caught completely by surprise, and promptly annihilated. The deaths of thousands of sons of Lorgar cemented the place of Vortigern and his Fallen among the Horusians, and the repercussions of these losses in the Dark Council helped take off some of the pressure on the Warmaster's dominion.**

Again, most of the room was conflicted over who they wanted to win.  
**  
"Erebus,**

**Your meddling has not gone unnoticed, nor have its consequences.**

**Fail like this again and I will have your soul ripped from your body and impaled upon the highest peak of the Dark Cathedral, to scream there for all eternity.**

**Do not try my patience further."**

**Message from Lorgar to the Dark Council**

The sound of Lorgar's Daemonic voice ending the video sent chills through the real Lorgars spine, knowing that his corrupted counterpart would not hesitate to fufil that threat. Not even Erbus deserved such eternal torment. Kor Phareon was a different story, having served chaos all his life, but Erbus had been corrupted unknowingly.


	17. the arrested fall part one

this was written by lordlucan

threads/the-arrested-fall-alternative-30k.258722/

* * *

Fulgrim searched through the holovids until he found one that interested him. It was titled the arrested fall and he guessed it had something to do with the fall of the Eldar. Soon the Imperial family had assembled in the viewing room and the tech priest played the video

**For a million years, the eldar reined as the supreme empire of the galaxy; the ultimate winners of the War in heaven. As they grew in power, they also grew in decadence, and became obsessed with excess and the attainment of perfection in all endeavours. They wished to sample and dominate every sensation imaginable, and their imaginations were near-limitless.**

The tech priest played a strange voice clip of a weird high pitched voice repeating the word, "Yup."  
**  
The serpent of she who thirsts rose in their decaying souls. A dark shadow of the pleasure god flowed beneath the surface of their civilisation. For millennia, it seemed as if the eldar race were rushing headlong into a great, calamitous fall from grace. The eldar, if they didn't realise what was about to happen, might very well have collapsed and been devoured by their own god.**

**Alas, this did not occur. Some force, some vile demagogue Witchling Prince of the eldar, calling himself Vileth the Beatific, and his blessed muses, wormed their way into control of the Great Eldar Empire. Through some foul means, they illuminated the eldar race as to the nature of the god they were creating. The eldar race was deluded into believing that this being was a perfect reflection of their true nature. With guile and malice, a series of civil wars were fought between the servants of the old gods and the followers of this new, dreadful 'Slannesh'. But, though the empire was embroiled in centuries of war, they managed to stave off the far worse fate of the Fall.**

The Emperor's eyes widened and his sons reacted to his worry with confusion. The Emperor explained to his sons, "THE DARK ELDAR WORSHIP BEINGS KNOWN AS THE DARK MUSES. THESE ARE FAMOUS DARK ELDAR WHOSE NAMES WILL ECHO DOWN THROUGHOUT ETERNITY. GIVEN THAT VIELETH IS A DARK MUSE, I CAN ONLY SURMIZE THAT THE DARK MUSES RULE THIS ELDAR EMPIRE. ONE THAT IS IN THRALL TO SLANNESH."  
**  
The eldar survived. The children of Morai-Heg, Khaine and Asuryan, were defeated and the scant remnants of those eldar loyal to the old gods were exiled. They fled into the protection of Cegorach's labyrinth. Using their powerful wraith-tech, the Farseers and their harlequin allies sealed off their new home, the port Commorragh, from the rest of the galaxy.**

Khan chuckled a bit, noting the irony that those loyal to the ideals of the old eldar gods were hiding in Commorragh while those that served the wills of Slannesh in word or in deed were roaming the galaxy, where in most timelines it was the other way around. Rogal tried to comment on this but was slapped by Perturabo. The Emperor noted, "WELL THE OLD ELDAR GODS ARE BETTER THAN THE REALITY TUMORS, SO THE FACT THAT THERE FIGHTING CHAOS IS GOOD. I GUESS."  
**  
The Eldar Empire, now unified under Vileth, looked to the galaxy in disgust. For too long, the mewling parasites of the younger races had been allowed too much freedom. The Imperial Eldar declared that they were divine, for they were each part of Slannesh. As gods, they demanded tribute, and the smaller alien empires were forced to comply.**

The Emperor seethed and Lorgar noted, "Well there are many powerful beings that demand worship. In that sense these eldar are gods." The Emperor looked proud of Lorgar.  
**  
Resistance to their reign came from an unexpected source. The mon keigh was a race long thought tame; their 'Golden Age' of technology had been curbed by the eldar empire a millennium previously, by creating kin-strife between the mon keigh and their Iron men servants, which sparked a war that shattered the mon keigh empire in twain and allowed the primordial annihilator to subvert and ruin many human strongholds.**

Ferrus Manus was agasht, "So the Eldar are responsible for the Men of Iron revolt!" The tech priest noted, "Maybe in this timeline Lord Manus. But in ours the exact origin of the robotic revolt is unknown. Maybe it was the eldar, maybe a end result of logic and the knowledge of psykers being a threat. It could have been corruption by Chaos or the influence of the void dragon. Or maybe something else, we don't know."  
**  
However, in secret, the mon keigh were uniting under a new leader. Eldar spies long sought out this powerful being, known only as the Emperor, but they could never find him. He was a shifter of shapes, with a network of spies and mysterious collaborators. The Imperial eldar, in their arrogance, did not realise the power of this man. They assumed he was some petty warlord squabbling over the scraps of the extinct human empires. But the Emperor was powerful; at least a match for the most lethal eldar ancients.**

Corax then asked his father a question that was bugging him, "Father, why are you perceived differently by everyone?" The Emperor seemed nervous and said, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN." Corax elaborated, "Everyone sees you differently, even we, your sons, don't see the same thing." The Emperor let out a resigned sigh and explained, "IT'S A MINOR SIDE EFFECT OF THE GOD-LIKE POWER I WEILD. EVERYONE WHO HAS EVEN THE SLIGHTEST WARP PRESENCE SEES ME AS A DIVINITY. I CANNOT TURN IT OFF, AND WHILE IT IS USEFUL AT TIMES I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO NOT FOOL EVERYONE WHO HAS A SOUL AS TO MY TRUE APPEREANCE."  
**  
Covertly however, the Emperor was gathering together an alliance, a new empire to challenge the false gods. To lead his insurgency, he began to experiment with creating the perfect genetic soldiers; soldiers who could not be subverted by the warrior robots of the eldar. These soldiers would be led by generals even more powerful, with bodies infused with warp energy siphoned from the raw warp itself.**

Magnus let out a "hmm" then noted, "So in this timeline you made us and our legions to destroy the eldar."  
**  
The Emperor though, had enemies even in his own ranks. They were spies for the eldar, and they told them that the Emperor was building unspecified, warp-based superweapons. But before the eldar could investigate further, or destroy the Emperor's foetal Primarchs, the Emperor destroyed his own labs. It looked like his experiment was a failure, and the eldar simply laughed off the mon keigh as mere deluded simpletons. What they did not realise was that the Emperor had scattered his Primarchs to the eight winds. They grew up strong on diverse worlds far across the galaxy.**

At this all of the Primarchs were touched, for rarely was the Emperor different from there father in any of the timelines they had watched. The fact that there father willingly destroyed his labs and scattered them to the winds so as to ensure they had the chance of survival was touching. He did care for them, even if he could rarely express it.  
**  
When the time was right, and when the Emperor had at last completed his Adeptus Astartes, he set out on The Secret Crusade; a crusade to reunite the disparate human strongholds, and to locate his twenty lost sons. Alas, two of them were destroyed by the eldar before he could reach them, but the others were found, one by one, over the course of 200 years of campaigning. Some had built their own fiefdoms and empires, while others were slaves or raiding warlords, but they all recognised the Emperor when he covertly met with them.**

Konrad chuckled a bit at the name of the secret crusade. Alpharius/Omegon noted, "So the Eldar" "Destroyed our brothers" "In this timeline".  
**  
They fought at the forefront of every battle, subduing or subsuming every lesser xenos empires and human colonies they could into their own congregation of races. This reached its peak at Ullanor.**

The room suddenly refocused on the screen, all disbeliefing what this was implying. Yes the Imperium in this timeline needed every ally they could get but, no it couldn't be.  
**  
Upon the plains of Ullanor, the great Black Ork of Ullanor met with Horus of the Luna Wolves, and there they forged the pivotal alliance that would shape the nature of the ensuing war. The great ork empire was the largest enclave of orks in the galaxy, and could bully lesser ork empires into fighting for them if they needed to. The orks had no particular friendship with the humans; indeed, for thousands of years previously, the orks and men had made war upon each other without hesitation. But Horus, ever the consummate diplomat, knew just what to say. The greenskins didn't like humanity, but they at least respected them more than the eldar. In the end, the prospect of taking the fight to the heart of the eldar empire was irresistible to the great Black Ork. If the humans got in the orks' way, the orks would not hesitate to crump them, but otherwise something approaching a concordance was reached between the two.**

The Emperor was about to scold Horus much as he had done to Magnus once he learned of his contacts with Tzeentch and the breaking of the webway, but saw that Horus was doing a good job of that himself. Horus's horrorfied face indicated that he knew his counterpart had screwed up, and only the fact that he and the Orks weren't embracing Chaos ensured that he didn't try to gut himself.  
**  
Horus was named Warmaster by the Emperor, who returned to Terra to work on the next phase of the coming conflict.**

**The humans declared their defiance for the Imperial eldar in characteristically dramatic fashion. At Istavaan III, an eldar war fleet was lured into a masterful ambush by Horus, who destroyed the machine army, and its eldar directors, almost to a man. The Emperor and the primarchs had just declared open war on the Eldar Empire. Furthermore, Horus denounced the eldar as phony deities. The eldar were not gods; there were no gods. To the vainglorious madman Vileth, this was sacrilege. This was madness.**

**This was heresy.**

Angron shouted what the room was thinking, "If the imperial eldar are gods, then I would bear the title of heretic with pride!"****

**It is the 31st Millennium, and the Human Heresy has begun. Across the galaxy, serf worlds throw off the shackles of eldar rule, and declare themselves for the Emperor's Warmaster.**

Most of the room chuckled at the title human heresy.  
**  
The Black Ork has managed to unite the largest number of his odious brethren for centuries, and as they attack the eldar's property, it becomes clear than the orks are taking advantage of the situation, to attack the eldar while they are distracted with the mon keigh.**

**The greenskin scum and the mon keigh infest the galaxy like vermin. They outnumber the eldar, but not by much. And the Eldar Empire is no crumbling weakling realm; under Vileth the Beatific, they are almost as strong as the original unified empire. World-sized warships of devastating power are theirs to command, alongside technology and magic the likes of which most races could only dream off. Armies of terrifying, relentless 'Maton', unfeeling entities built to conquer and destroy, are amongst the forces loyal to Vileth's regime. Vileth himself wields Anaris, and has vowed to exterminate the human race in its entirety, to the last infant; a fitting punishment for their disloyalty.**

Once again the Imperial family sent out psychic waves of hate at Commorragh, this time for following Vileth's example.  
**  
But there is hope for the rebels. The Primarchs of humanity are mighty, and they lead the Space Marine Legions into battle. Humanity must either win, or face extinction. But is their faith and trust in the Primarchs misplaced? And what role might the diasporadic forces of the Great and Terrible Maelstrom play in the Heresy to come?**

The Emperor thus noted, "OH GREAT. NOT ONLY IS THERE THIS ELDAR EMPIRE OUR COUNTERPARTS HAVE TO DEAL WITH, BUT ALSO THE FORCES OF CHAOS!"  
**  
I cannot say.**

With this simple line the video ended, piqueing the interest of the Imperial family.


	18. prince of the eye part eleven

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-10#post-59720752

s/13366753/11/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest played the next file in the series, and all of the family was courious as to what the corrupted Horus would do.

**Even with the arrival of the Fallen, the Horusians were still in the backfoot in the Legion Wars. The main reason for this was that, as long as the Crimson Accords forces had the initiative, the distorsion of time within the Eye of Terror mostly worked to the advantage of their enemies. Horus was on the defensive, sending reinforcements to strongholds that were under attack, and while the Cabalites had made communication faster and more reliable, actually moving the fleets through the unpredictable tides of the Eye of Terror was far more difficult. Some fleets arrived at their destination decades after the end of the siege, while others arrived days before the forces of the Crimson Accords entered the system – though the former was much more common. The Sorcerers of the Crimson Accords were using rituals to bend the time-twisting in their favor, and though these were costly and not entirely reliable, they were still a huge advantage for the Crimson Accords.**

Horus's eyes widened, for he knew that no matter how corrupted his counterpart was it still thought like him. He knew how he would deal with temporal displacement.  
**  
The Warmaster studied the Eye's very nature, puzzling out the eldritch ways in which the birth of the Youngest God had scarred reality and merged it with the Empyrean's madness. Within his chambers, Horus sought the means to end the temporal advantage of his enemies, using secrets that had been whispered in his heart by the Dark Gods themselves during the Heresy. He called Ahriman to him, and some of the greatest Horusian Sorcerers, as well as magi of the Dark Mechanicum and Techmarines who had embraced the power of Chaos – those who were now called Warpsmiths. All the while, his sons and allies fought on against the armies of Lorgar and Magnus, trusting that their Warmaster would deliver them victory.**

Ferrus looked worried as well, for any working on that scale by such corrupted smiths could only be bad for the galaxy.  
**  
And in the end, Horus succeeded. He emerged from his chambers and called the Warpsmiths to attend him, summoning them from all across his domain. Hundreds of artisans of Ruins answered Horus' call, and he explained his design to them. Under his direction, the Warpsmiths built a thousand and one great clocks at specific points on Maeleum, forming an arcane pattern of immense power. Each clock was a work of infernal greatness, forged from metal mined in the deepest mines of Maeleum, with every part crafted according to Horus' exacting specifications. But all of them were utterly silent, their machinery frozen until all preparations were complete.**

The Emperor remained stone faced, but he had deduced what Horus's corrupted counterpart was going to do.

**The calculations were checked twelve times by a group of Ahriman and his Cabalites, and every clock was inspected for any flaw, no matter how minute. It took three months of replacing defective ones (and punishing those who had made them) before Horus was satisfied. Considering the scope of his ambition, anything less would have been beyond suicidal.**

**"You do realize that this is madness ?"**

**"Of course. But who, other than the mad, would dare triumph in Hell ?"**

**"… If I knew the answer, I would not be here, now would I ?"**

**Ahriman to Horus  
**  
Magnus mentally admitted that even when corrupted Ahirman had not lost his sense of humor. ****

**With his Talon and his will, Horus cut through the Eye of Terror itself. He ripped apart the unreality of the Dark Prince's Grave-birth, and with his Gods-given powers, he reached through that opening and stole Time from the Materium, anchoring it through the greatest of the hell-forged clocks, a tower of black iron and brass over a kilometer tall, standing right above Horus' own throneroom. By this singular act, the Warmaster brought some of reality's order into the Realm of Chaos, as time now flowed on Maeleum in a constant, linear fashion – one hour passing on Maeleum now corresponded to one hour passing outside the Eye of Terror.**

The room was awestruck, and the Tech Priest clapped. He then noted while clapping, "I am amazed Horus. I am just so impressed with how all Primarchs are able to do the impossibile. Imposing order on Chaos. Just, Wow!"  
**  
The flow of time passed through the thousand other clocks and through them and the dark arithmetics of the Warp, it was sent throughout the rest of the Horusian dominion. Entire daemon worlds were dragged into conformity to the laws of causality – kicking in screaming all the way, sometimes literally as the Chaos-bathed planets writhed under Time's touch. The further a daemon world was from Maeleum itself, the weaker the effect became, and even on Maeleum itself there remained locations too imbued with the energies of Chaos for the clocks to affect them.**

Rogal stated in his brick wall/skitani like way, "That makes sense. Even the corrupted Horus, as the gods chosen, cannot impose true order upon Chaos." Perturabo hit him once more.  
**  
Obalath tried to scream, but his body refused to answer to the orders coming from his brain. He would have panicked if only the necessary rush of oxygen and hormones could take place. The mutant's bestial face was wrinkling, ravaged by accelerated ageing as his mouth moved soundlessly, while the rest of his flesh remained unchanged. By the time his lungs finally responded to his injuction, his head had turned into dust.**

Vulkan looked distraught, he didn't know who Obalath was but he did know he most likely didn't deserve such a horrible death.  
**  
In fact, the time-distorsions of these places grew worse after the building of the clocks, as if Chaos itself was compensating for what Horus had wrought. The Horusians soon learned to mark these places, where thousands of years could pass in the blink of an eye and from which crawled things spawned from the unfortunate who had been trapped within them upon Horus' grand gesture.**

Rogal recovered from the blow and noted, "Once again, that is to be expected." Before he could rehash the fact that chaos would resist order he was hit on the head by Perturabo once more.  
**  
On Sicarius and Prospero, the Daemon Primarchs of the Crimson Accords felt the repercussions of Horus' titanic feat of sorcery. Lorgar was enraged, seeing what his brother had done as a gross violation of the Gods' holy realm. Magnus was silently impressed, and set many of his sons and servants to the task of uncovering how Horus had done this – if only so that they would know how to undo it once the Legion Wars were won without accidentally destroying the entire Eye.**

Magnus and Lorgar were both silent, but they knew that was how they would react.  
**  
Thanks to the Theft of Time, the logistics of the Legion Wars became much easier for the Horusians. The Warmaster could now wield all of his tactical genius, sending reinforcements toward strongholds that were exposed before the enemy could make his move and baiting and destroying entire fleets. Between the Cabalites' assistance, the Dark Angels recruits, and now this, the tide of the Legion Wars finally turned in the Horusians' favor.**

Horus felt a strange half hearted pride at this revelation.  
**  
For the first time since the Broken Conclave, the Sons of Horus and their Night Lord and Fallen allies were able to launch attacks on their own on the domains of the Crimson Accords. Temples of the Seventeenth Legion and observatories of the Fifteenth were razed, and those who had joined the alliance of Lorgar and Magnus were made to face the displeasure of the Warmaster.**

**In response, Lorgar dedicated more and more resources to the prosecution of the war. The Arch-Priest called upon the elder servants of Ruin, using the power granted unto him as a Daemon Primarch of Chaos Undivided. From the depths of the Gods' realms, the favored scions of Chaos emerged – a host of Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, and other, less easily classified horrors. The Dark Gods were enjoying the Legion Wars immensely – even Horus' seeming disdain for the madness of the Eye was a source of great joy, for it had turned the course of the war on its head. The Ruinous Powers watched on, wondering what would be the next move of their favourite toy.**

**Did Lorgar and Magnus know what game their daemonic overlords were playing ? Possibly. For all that they were blind in so many ways, Aurelian and the Crimson King understood the Great Game of Chaos like few damned souls before them. But not even they could have anticipated Horus' next strike against the Accords.**

This intrigued all of the room. Given corrupted Horus had forced Order upon Chaos what the heck could possibily be unexpected that this point.


	19. beneath bound star's humanity's fall

this was written by VulkansNodosaurus and I discovered that the total fics name was beneath bound stars and the section was called humanitys fall. i called it that before i knew its name.

forum/threads/miscellaneous-warhammer-40k-fantasy-thread.412145/page-229#post-19941054

* * *

The tech priest prepped the holovid, and Mortarion commented, "By the title of this video I think it is another one where you become a chaos god Father." The Emperor sighed and asked, "AND IS IT ONLY ONE FILE LONG?" The tech priest noted, "Its the only one the magic box dispensed." The Emperor glared at him and said, "WE ARE NOT CALLING IT THAT." The tech priest chuckled and said, "I know that." He then played the video before any could respond.

**Does it please me, to prove my youthful folly right in the end? I tell my sons that it does not. The truth is, I do not know.**

Immediately the booming voice of the Daemonic Lorgar was recognized.  
**  
I will say this much: this fate could have been avoided. The fifth God was born prematurely, by millennia. Humanity worshiped the God-Emperor for ten thousand years, in a galaxy's worth of voices - but ten thousand years is not so long, by the standards of true history. Fate might have run its course, even deflected as it was by Abaddon's folly. And after perhaps another hundred millennia of war, a megayear at most, if humanity still stood... then the Master of Mankind would come in truth, and the galaxy, and perhaps the universe, would bend to its will.**

The tech priest was curious, "Trillions worshiping the Emperor for over ten thousand years wasn't enough to truly birth a chaos god? That doesn't make sense."  
**  
But humanity would not have stood. And even if it had, the God-Emperor would have replaced the Chaos Gods, rather than joining them; and that is not something I can accept, nor something I would if I could. A universe ruled by one god only, and the one born of my father's memory at that... it would be as good as dead.**

**So I brought about this apocalypse early. I do not expect the galaxy to thank me for its salvation. But then, when has it ever?**

Lorgar grumbled, "My counterpart is right about one thing."  
**  
Perhaps I am not pleased with what I have done. But even so, I am very much proud of it.**

**Lorgar Aurelian**

**The date of humanity's fall is often set at 042.M42. In truth, the Warp and historical disputes make any attempts at such precise dating dubious; but that is of little consequence.**

**The birth of the fifth Chaos God was like an echo of the fourth's: as eldar depravity created Slaanesh, so did human fanaticism create the Star-Father. At the time, the Imperium of Man had been recovering from the Millennial Crisis, when Abaddon had broken Cadia and created the Great Rift, and only the miraculous rebirth of the primarch Roboute Guilliman saved the Imperium. As Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade shored up the embattled frontiers of humanity, the Great Rift's cut across the skies inspired a great psychic awakening among every psychic species in the galaxy. Yet just as the rituals of Chaos cultists were strengthened, so were the Living Saints of the Imperium. Perhaps that should have been portent enough of what was to come.**

Robotue stated, "This appears to be a timeline that either is the result of the Gathering Storm or branches off from it."  
**  
The fifth Chaos God, whose name was Astropater, was not born from the corpse upon the Golden Throne, though it was irrevocably linked to it. Rather, it was shaped by the beliefs of the Imperial Cult galaxywide. Yet when the entity's silent birth-scream came, it was on Terra that it emerged into realspace, for every human in the galaxy knew of the Throneworld's supremacy.**

The tech priest let out a hmm and noted, "This version of the deified Emperor has a name beyond holy tyrant or star father, interesting." Magnus the stated, "Actually Astropater means star father" To this Leman let out a loud, "Nerd!"  
**  
In an instant that was a lifetime, Materium and Immaterium changed forever.**

**"And on that day, so long as we can step forward and let go of the past, all our sins will be cleansed and all our pains will be cured; and when we look into the future, we will see it lit evenly by the Emperor's Light."**

**\- The Lectitio Divinitatus**

**Ten impossible dawns came over Terra at once. A Warp Storm smothered nearly all of Segmentum Solar, stretching into southeastern Obscurus; a second Eye, at whose heart Sol blazed an impossibly bright flame.**

**Yet the accumulated Warp-pressure was not sufficient to drag into Daemon-World status all the planets of the Imperium. Astropater's birth had been premature, and if not for the Cicatrix Maledictum as a source of fuel would not have been possible at all. As it was, the discharge of power sucked out the cohesion of every Warp Storm in the galaxy, with only two exceptions: the Eye of Terror, whose stable borders nonetheless drew far back, and the Maelstrom, which seemed unaffected. The other storms, including the Cicatrix Maledictum itself, were broken: they remained as turbulent as ever, but their energy was gone, as were their time distortion effects, and within decades they would dissipate entirely. For now, though, the shadow of the Great Rift proved an ironic savior: the worlds of the Dark Imperium were spared the shockwave of the new god's birth, and experienced no immediate effect, though psykers could sense immediately that something terrible had taken place.**

**In the Bright Imperium, though, the shockwave was felt in full. Psykers fell into comas, which near the Solstorm were generally fatal. Every soul shook in terror. And meanwhile, in the Warp - not that there is any notion of simultaneity in the Warp - ten hosts of radiant daemons set out, a fifth voice in the Great Game of Chaos.**

The Emperor paled and said, "THAT CAN NOT BE GOOD FOR HUMANITY".  
**  
Angyls and Judicars**

**Astropater's forces were shaped by the beliefs of the Imperial Cult, much of which was in turn drawn from heavily mythologized mythology or history. Thus, the Greater Daemons of Astropater, known as Angyls, were created from popular perception of Astartes, Sororitas, and Living Saints. They usually appear as enormous and angel-winged humanoids, clad in shining armor but faceless. Their strengths tend to lie in physical strength and agility, as well as in area-effect attacks of blinding light. The Lesser Daemons, Judicars, were born of perception of Inquisitors, Arbites, and Administratum adepts; they appear as unremarkable humans clad in grey, which do not stand out even in combat. It was quickly found, however, that they were not merely infiltrators; a Judicar that judges someone guilty (according to its eldritch and unknowable methods) will brutally and publicly slaughter them, before dragging their soul to eternal torment. During such Executions, a Judicar can easily kill even an enemy that would normally shrug off a Lesser Daemon's blows. The Judicars, though often sadistic, are bound fundamentally to obey the Angyls, which are typically more likely to be concerned with the destruction of their enemies rather than their torment. Below those classes of daemon and the Pilgrimm, daemonic beasts bolster Astropater's armies, notably the Sguta (appearing similarly to skull-faced grox, albeit much more golden and aggressive) and the Debitists (with the appearance of a canid-horse hybrid and the demeanor of a brain-damaged drill sergeant).**

**Astropater was, like all the Chaos Gods, unique. His first precept was absolute obedience, his second hate for all xenos, his third the need to purge heresy and other thought-crime. At the same time, though, he exhibited a genuine care for humans, similar to Nurgle's care for all life. Human souls devoured by Astropater were (after a purgatory lasting up to subjective eternity) returned to the form of Pilgrimm, lesser daemons for all intents and purposes physically human in the realm of the Warp (which notably became mundane, albeit brainwashed, humans if summoned into realspace). The Pilgrimm experience was generally to live a life of menial labor in average Imperial working conditions (i.e. abject at best) before returning to be purged of their sins in this new life, ad infinitum. Nevertheless, by the nature of the Pilgrimm, they desired this suffering and could not conceive otherwise. Ironically, the despised xeno souls were generally granted the arguable mercy of utter oblivion.**

**Humans still living, meanwhile, felt Astropater's existence as the Call (except in the Dark Imperium). It was a whisper at the back of their minds, appearing only in moments of particular intensity, an inexpressible pull to sacrifice themselves, with a certain subconscious awareness of just what that would entail. To accept the Call was to instantly give your soul to Astropater, those judged most worthy becoming Daemon Princes while the overwhelming majority were devoured into Pilgrimm. Humans could, however, prevent the Call by appeasing Astropater, much like the dark eldar appeased Slaanesh with others' pain. In particular, killing xenos ameliorated the Call for a time, and any human who owned (human) slaves, or otherwise had absolute subordinates, was immune to the Call. Additionally, the souls of dead humans not claimed by other powers were pulled towards Astropater.**

The eyes of both Vulkan and Khan widened at this and the Tech priest commented, "Wow, Dark Humanity."  
**  
The Call was weak, in the initial decades after humanity's Fall. It did not matter, though, because the bulk of humanity did not think to refuse it. Naturally, an exception was provided by humans in Warp Storms, which also provided shielding from the Call. Null fields provided a similar defense; both were however only local respites. Ultimately, the only true means of restricting or preventing the Call was to sacrifice one's humanity; in particular, tech-priests generally felt the Call to a much lesser extent, and were more capable of withstanding it, some hereteks being unaffected by it entirely.**

**(But for every human that heeded the Call, it grew that immeasurable bit stronger.)**

**In the Warp, Khorne and Slaanesh both burned with hate against the new god, so much so that the formerly opposed deities had something resembling a rapprochment. Slaanesh saw Astropater as boring, as well as a threat due to his prejudice against the eldar; Khorne was perhaps defensive in desiring to keep hate as his domain, but more importantly saw Astropater's realm as devoid of anything resembling true rage. The Angyls' hate was a matter of their nature, and a constant rather than anything to do with retribution. Nurgle, meanwhile, was rather pleased with the commonalities he shared with Astropater, and to some extent this feeling was reciprocated, as the two were the only Chaos Gods with a distaste for lowercase-c chaos. Tzeentch, surprisingly, was also satisfied with Astropater's rise, perhaps for his message of hope or perhaps merely because of how dramatically it shook up the Great Game.**

all of the eyes of the room widened at this, for Khorne and Slannesh were mortal enemy's.  
**  
Still, there have never been allies among the Chaos Gods, much less friends. The Warp sang with daemonic conflict, alliances and offensives of infinite complexity replacing one another in a torment that would have overshadowed the conflicts of the Materium had it had any chance of someone actually winning. The nature of Astropater's birth made it temporarily the weakest Chaos God in the Warp, though the strongest in realspace; the nature of its past meant the other Chaos Gods could, conceivably, have united against him despite their natures. But for all the freedom it was associated with, the Warp could not really change itself except through realspace.**

**(All of this might well have started another galactic war, but if it did, no one noticed.)**

**The eldar were the first to understand what had happened. It was a disaster without question, and while the reactions of individuals and factions varied greatly, most mentally concluded they had overestimated humanity. Certainly it would be hypocritical to punish the surviving mon-keigh for this, but as it was, the schemes of thousands of farseers to use the Imperium as a bulwark against Chaos had backfired in spectacular fashion.**

**Other xeno races made territorial gains after the Solstorm's ignition, but for the most part they were not too affected. Even the Tau Empire, with a substantial human population, did better than might have been expected: the Greater Good did much to shield the gue'vesa against the Call's temptation.**

**"Two new Ruinous Powers in only ten millennia. Truly, the idiots have surpassed themselves."**

**\- Imotekh Stormlord**

The tech priest chuckled at this line by the Necron warlord.  
**  
But the Imperium was, of course, a different matter. To begin with, the Astronomicon was replaced with the fouler beacon of the Solstorm, which could be used for navigation but only by those willing to risk falling into its clutches. On the worlds of the Solstorm, all human souls were dragged to Astropater in the instant of his awakening. Outside, the Call sounded out, and one by one people began dying of what seemed like heart attacks, in every part of every world. Between that and the new Warp Storm in the sky where Terra had been (visible to humans everywhere in the 'bright' Imperium instantly, though for xenos its physical shape spread only at the speed of light) order generally broke down quickly.**

This horror chilled the room.  
**  
Though little of its population had any idea of it, the Imperium of Man had died in an instant.**

Magnus snarked, "How fitting."  
**  
The forges of Mars looked so strange when they were still.**

**They would not be so for long, Teraon Erratch knew as he beheld the vista. Already there were signs of the ground moving. For all the (correct) accusations of tech-heresy, he was still a Magos of Mars: he knew full well what that meant. Without a doubt some daemonic parody of the tech-priests and servitors would come to replace his colleagues, and the gears would move again with dark purpose. Without a doubt, too, they would kill him when they found him. He estimated a probability of less than 10-9 that he would survive what was to come, which meant that his own destruction was the single thing in the universe he was most certain about.**

**In the sky, Terra blazed golden through the smoke. His observations had shown it to have formed into a lattice of spires with the overall shape of an eagle, in defiance of gravity. Sol was mercifully below the horizon, only a blue glow in the west indicating its vicinity. It was brighter still, though it emitted only visible light. He supposed someone with a soul might have seen something stranger still. The other planets and moons were all still there, and thus far largely unchanged; the sole exception was Titan, which had entirely vanished.**

The Emperor whispered, "THERE MUST BE HOPE."  
**  
And Mars... Erratch had long since removed, neuron by neuron, every organic component of his brain; but somehow that failed to stop the upwelling of emotion. They'd worshiped the Omnissiah, believing in a grand design that seemed more absurd by the instant. Now that very god had damned them. The servitors and engines remained, and in some factoria surely there were assembly lines still producing masterworks that would never be used.**

**Teraon Erratch felt a drop of oil slide down the side of his mask, and even he couldn't tell if it was a tear.**

The tech priest noted, "That is probably a tear."  
**  
Then, his vox crackled.**

**"...any sapients still alive called to coordinates..."**

**The message was garbled, relayed across half the planet by half-broken relays. But even so, it meant there was still other intelligence on Mars - abominable intelligence, perhaps, but so was what Erratch had become. There was a purpose now, at least a potential one, something he realized now his germanium-based mind had been missing; and so Erratch filed his ident-codes, wrangling as many unmanned vehicles as he could.**

**They would meet at Noctis Labyrinthus, to whatever end.**

The tech priest snarked, "C'tan vs Star Father. taking all bets."


	20. prince of the eye part twelve

this was made by Zahariel

s/13366753/12/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-10#post-59976661

* * *

The Tech priest played the next video, and the room wondered how Horus's counterpart could possibly top breaking the non-reality of the warp itself.

**With time restored to the Horusian domains, the Warmaster could not help but wonder just how long he and his warriors had been trapped inside the Eye. Horus knew that the Legion Wars, for all their apocalyptic scale, were but a distraction : the true prize laid outside, in the Imperium they had forged from their sweat and blood. Yet with the armies of the Crimson Accords renewing their assaults, bolstered by the great fiends called forth by Lorgar, he had little time to investigate.**

The tech priest snarked, "Yeah, the legions of hell are pretty distracting."  
**  
It was Konrad Curze, the mad Primarch of the Night Lords Legion, who delivered to the Warmaster the answers he sought – and with them, the means to inflict a terrible blow upon his enemies. One day, the King of the Night appeared on Maeleum without warning, presenting himself to the gates of the Warmaster's palace to the utter stupefaction of its guards. He came without fanfare or escort, accompanied only by a single mortal woman.**

**The woman was clad in tattered rags, and an iron collar circled her neck, connected to a chain of silver whose other end was firmly in Curze's grasp. Yet she walked like a queen as she and the Night Haunter were welcomed into Horus' great stronghold, and did not appear troubled at all by the weapons trained on her by hesitant guards – Konrad said nothing to this, seeming amused by his nephews' caution. Queries as to how Curze had come to Maeleum – there had been no sighting of Eighth Legion vessels, no perturbation in the Aether detected by the Sorcerers, nothing – went unanswered, save for the slightest, mocking smirk on the corpse-pale lips of the Night Haunter.**

Konrad looked strangely at his counterpart, how had his counterpart managed to do that.  
**  
"Hello, Konrad."**

**"Hello, Horus."**

**"Who is your companion, brother ?"**

**"I am Morgana, Great One."**

**Conversation in the inner chambers of Maeleum's greatest stronghold**

**Morgana – for this was the name claimed by the mortal woman – had come to the Eye of their own volition, seeking to meet with Horus to bring him knowledge of the events that had transpired in the Imperium since the rebellion's defeat. Her ship had been mislaid by the currents of the storm, and she had been rescued from its wreck by Curze himself. The Night Haunter had felt the ripples of Morgana's presence across time, and sought their source.**

**Exerting his will, Horus compelled Morgana to speak only truth, and let her speak.**

**The first of Morgana's many revelations was just how long had passed outside the Eye of Terror : more than seven centuries, where (before the Theft of Time) some parts of the Horusian dominion had seen mere decades pass – and some others, millennia. In those seven centuries, the Imperium has changed so much as to become almost unrecognisable to those who had fought in the Great Crusade and the Heresy.**

**Before coming to the Eye, Morgana had been a high-ranking member of the Imperium's ruling class, and knew a lot more than the typical Imperial citizen. Just what position she occupied was unclear, and in the years that followed there would be plenty of speculation in the Eye. Some would think her a renegade Inquisitor, others a prophetess of the Dark Gods. Some would write entire treaties explaining how her every action made it clear she was an agent of the Alpha Legion, and others would remain convinced that she wasn't human at all, but a daemon in disguise.**

Alpharius and Omegon noted, "All of" "those theories" "are possible."  
**  
Regardless of her true origins, Morgana told Horus that his father, the Emperor, still lived, after a fashion. Wounded nigh unto death by the blow inflicted upon Him by the Warmaster aboard the Vengeful Spirit, He had been placed into stasis upon the Golden Throne, where His spirit was sustained by the thousand daily sacrifices of psykers, their souls consumed to fuel the Astronomican's blazing light. That much had been expected by Horus, who could feel the burning fire of the Astronomican even from Maeleum. What the Warmaster hadn't expected was that the Master of Mankind was now commonly referred to as the God-Emperor.**

The Emperor looked sad, and Rogal noted, "So its the same as normal." Perturabo didn't even bother hitting Rogal for this statement.  
**  
The cults born of Lorgar's Lectitio Divinatus had grown exponentially during and after the war, feeding on the mythological scale of the conflict and the fear caused by the reveal of the Warp's true nature. With the Emperor falling to Horus' Talon and the exile of His "fallen angels" into the Eye of Terror, preachers and demagogues alike had found it all too easy to convert billions to their blasphemous beliefs. As the loyal Primarchs hunted down the remnants of the traitor forces (unwittingly helping cement their part in the newly-written religious canon), these cults slowly coalesced into one, galaxy-encompassing leviathan. In the wake of the anarchy and terror brought on by the war, the High Lords of Terra quietly supported the rise of this new faith, hoping to instrumentalize it to solidify their control of Humanity. **

Lorgar looked sad at what happened in so many timelines.  
**  
To avoid a second civil war, the Primarchs had been forced to concede and allow the rise of the Ecclesiarchy as a central force of the Imperium. Even Sanguinius must now play the part assigned to him by the Imperial Creed : that of the God-Emperor's most loyal and powerful servant, given to Mankind to guide and protect them in the Materium while He safeguards their souls from the Dark.**

Sanguinius looked shamefully at his wings.  
**  
In response to this, and combined with his own guilt over failing to face Horus during the Siege and completing the vision of his doom he had known must come, the Angel had withdrawn from the Imperium. Leaving his Legion in the hands of his capable subordinates, Sanguinius now wandered the Imperium alone, seemingly driven by divine inspiration. He appeared where and when he was needed most, though that was not always obvious, and where he came, so did the wrath of the God-Emperor. Rebellions against tyrannical Governors had been quelled by his appearance, and religious fervor had been turned from degenerating into fanatical calls for purging the unbelievers by a single word of the white-feathered Primarch.**

**Behind his mask of calm and control, Horus was shocked by this revelation to his core. Years ago, on the moon of Davin, he had first been convinced to rebel against his father by visions showing the Emperor worshiped as a god, and he and eight more of his brothers forgotten, erased from history. At the time, he had believed that this was the Emperor's plan – to elevate Himself to godhood at the cost of every ideal the Great Crusade was founded upon. It had been the first step on his path to rebellion and revelation, and now, he had learned that his own rebellion had brought about that very outcome. For a time, his mind reeled with the implications, and Morgana was silent, sensing his inner turmoil. Then, displaying a surprising insight in his brother's mind, Konrad spoke.**

**"I have learned that it does not matter who we were before, or how we came to be who we are now. All that matters is this : what do you want, Horus ? And what are you ready to do to get it ?"**

**The Night Haunter to the Warmaster**

Many heads in the room turned to the Night Haunter, and the Tech Priest noted, "I didn't know you could be so insightful Lord Konrad." Konrad Curze said nothing.  
**  
According to the Dark Angels, Lion El'Jonson was dead, struck by a vile Horusian plot – the Warmaster actually chuckled when he heard the fiction the sons of Caliban were presenting to the rest of the Imperium in their desperation to hide the existence of the Fallen, and noted to make sure to inform Vortigern. Jaghatai Khan had gone missing, pursuing the Dark Eldar raiders who had pillaged Chogoris and inflicted untold atrocities upon the world's population while the Khagan was fighting in the Heresy. Leman Russ had spent the longest of all Primarchs in the Scouring, unsatisfied with the severity and thoroughness of the purges of Horus' supporters. As far as Morgana knew, the Wolf King was still hunting the distant descendants of those who had sided with the Warmaster and fled to the unexplored regions of the galaxy after his defeat.**

**Rogal Dorn had turned the Cadian Gate into a fortress, pouring his Legion's resources and influence into securing the one stable entrance and exit to the Eye of Terror. The Praetorian had sworn himself to the task of guarding the Gate, while his son Sigismund led the Black Templars into more proactive forms of warfare across the galaxy.**

**The Iron Hands, shattered during the Heresy, had been wholly brought back into the fold. In an unparalleled feat of diplomacy, Guilliman had managed to convince the Medusan warriors who had abandoned the Imperium after the death of Captain Shadrak Meduson to return. What he had offered the Blackshields-in-all-but-name to persuade them, Morgana did not know – she doubted that a simple pardon for their actions during the Heresy would have been enough.**

**Vulkan and the few remaining Salamanders were split between Terra and Nocturne. On the Throneworld, the Salamanders had replaced the Imperial Fists as guardians, manning the walls and helping keep the peace planetwide. On Nocturne (which Vulkan still visited once every fifteen standard years, at the Time of Trials), the decimated Legion was still slowly rebuilding its numbers. Salamander forces were dispatched on very select missions, mostly to reclaim lost artefacts of the Legion or on humanitarian assignments, where the presence of Space Marines, while not indispensable, would help lower the death toll in civilian populations.**

**As the Traitor Legions were banished to the Eye of Terror and the Scouring concluded, Guilliman had claimed that the remaining Legions needed to evolve. The Avenging Son declared that the battlefield had changed : no longer did the armies of the Imperium wage great wars of conquest and liberation, gathering billion-strong forces to bring entire Sectors into the fold. The age of the Great Crusade was over, and now they must hold that which they had conquered against the threats of the xenos and the heretic. The influence of Chaos had not disappeared with the banishment of Horus and his cohorts : cults of Ruin sprouted on thousands of worlds, hiding in the shadows and quietly growing in strength until they revealed themselves.**  
**  
At Guilliman's suggestion, the loyal Legions were reorganized into smaller forces, each operating in near-total autonomy, but still part of an overall chain of command with their Primarch (if he still lived) at the top of it. These Chapters counted a thousand Astartes, with a complement of warmachines, ships, serfs and recruitment facilities. They were scattered across the Imperium, to serve as fast-response forces capable of crushing most insurrections and xenos threats. The greatest concentration of Space Marines in the Imperium was on Cadia itself, where Rogal Dorn commanded more than ten thousand Legionaries across the system's many, many strongholds.**

**Guilliman himself had returned to Maccrage, from where he directed the efforts of his entire Legion, receiving reports from all Chapters of the Thirteenth Legion and collating data in order to detect patterns and react to threats with maximum speed and efficiency. He was also the voice of reason in Imperial politics, sending Ultramarine emissaries to regions of the Imperium where those who claimed the Emperor's authority to rule were misusing that privilege and failing in their duties.**

The room was silent at the state of the Imperium.  
**  
For a long time, Horus mused on Morgana's revelations. Then, he came to a decision. He commanded Konrad to take the woman and bring her to Sicarius, the daemonic homeworld of the Seventeenth Legion. The Night Haunter was then to call upon a life-debt owed to him by Lorgar, from when he had saved the Aurelian from the talons of Corvus Corax on Isstvan V. Lorgar's ascension to daemonhood may have greatly increased his power and granted him immortality, but by the same token, he was now bound by the same rules as all of daemonkind, and would be forced to accede to Curze's request. That request, Horus commanded, would be the following : that none, no matter how great or small, hurt Morgana after she was left on Sicarius. Her safety and freedom were to be guaranteed by the Aurelian, now and forevermore.**

Konrad and Lorgar looked at each other with appreciation and wariness.  
**  
Curze's laughter was heard across all of Maeleum. Once he had stopped laughing, he swore to his brother that his will would be done, and took Morgana with him out of the chamber – though the Justaerins who guarded all entrances did not see him pass, nor did anyone else in the palace.**

Once more Konrad wondered how his counterpart did this.  
**  
Not long after – perhaps immediately, but it is impossible to know for certain – Konrad reappeared on Sicarius itself. His arrival was greeted in a much different fashion than it had been on Maeleum : dozens of sorcerous alarms started to ring, the aura of a Primarch disturbing the Aether. Thousands of Word Bearers converged on the Night Haunter, who stood in the middle of a sacrificial plaza, having ripped the mortal priest overseeing the sacrifices to shreds (which, in the spirit of the daemon world, he had carefully arranged upon the altar in a pattern pleasing to the Dark Gods).**

Lorgar and the Emperor were both disgusted by this.  
**  
The Word Bearers surrounded Curze, but did not dare attack. For all that the Primarch of the Eighth Legion had aligned himself with Horus the Weak, he was still a Primarch, and clearly blessed by the Pantheon. They waited, hesitant, and Curze watched them, Morgana at his side, seeming as unconcerned by the host of deadly warriors as the Primarch himself.**

Konrad noted to Lorgar, "Seems like your sons are smarter than the average zealot."  
**  
Finally, Lorgar appeared, manifesting in a gout of hellfire. His voice burning with eldritch power, he demanded to know what his brother was doing here, before he face the wrath of Chaos Undivided. For several seconds, Curze looked Lorgar in his burning eyes, smiling. Then he did as Horus had commanded, and called in the debt he was owed.**

**Just as the Warmaster had planned, Lorgar could not refuse his brother's demand. The Aurelian knew there was a trap hidden in the seemingly innocuous request – what harm could a simple mortal woman be, after all ? But he could not disobey the laws of the Neverborn, not when the one calling in the marker was a being as potent as Curze. He swore that Morgana would be kept safe and free by him, the Bearers of the Word, and all others upon whom the Daemon Primarch had authority.**

**Konrad gestured for Morgana to begin speaking. Before Lorgar Aurelian, several members of the Dark Council, the ambassador of the Thousand Sons and thousands of Word Bearers, she repeated her tale of the Ecclesiarchy and its worship of the God-Emperor. She spoke for hours, detailing the beliefs and origins of the Imperial Creed, while her audience listened, stunned and spell-bound not to do anything to silence her. When she was done, Konrad looked at the face of Lorgar, seeing something that mere mortals could not see on his brother's burning visage, and nodded slightly.**

**Then he was gone, seemingly slipping through a fold in space, leaving Morgana behind.**

Konrad Curze noted his counterpart was a jerk.  
**  
The testimony of Morgana broke Lorgar's will. His long-held beliefs that the Primordial Truth was the only way for Mankind's salvation, that the rebellion against the Emperor had been just and necessary, were thrown into question by the fact that all he had achieved was realize what he had once dreamt of accomplishing and had later turned against and sought to avoid at all costs.**

**The Daemon Primarch could hear the laughter of the Dark Gods, and, without a word, he withdrew from the Legion's affairs, secluding himself into his sanctum. There, he contemplated the will of the Gods, seeking an answer as to what he was meant to do now. Was Horus still the anointed champion of Chaos ? Had the Warmaster actually succeeded in what he had been destined to accomplish, even though the rebellion had failed ?**

Lorgar looked distastefully at his counterpart.  
**  
With Lorgar's withdrawal, the Dark Council assumed joint command of the Seventeenth Legion, but it was divided. Some wanted to continue the Legion Wars against the Horusians, while others thought that Morgana's words were a warning of the consequences of infighting while the true enemy grew stronger outside the Eye. Meanwhile, without Lorgar's will to hold them under control, the host of powerful daemons the Aurelian had summoned broke free. Some spread across the Eye or returned to their own domains, but others sought revenge against the Word Bearers for daring to presume to command them. No few of those ended up allying themselves with the Warmaster's forces, however temporary and uneasy such alliances may be.**

The tech priest played a clip, "When you deal with the devil, you are gonna get burnt."  
**  
As for Morgana herself, she was left untouched, protected by the oath of Lorgar. In fact, the wording of the oath forced the Dark Council to permanently assign her a guard, to make sure that her life and freedom were preserved. At her request, this guard was limited to a "mere" hundred Word Bearers and a singular cruiser-class vessel, named the Ashdrinker. With it, she left Sicarius to parts unknown, having dealt a nigh-lethal blow to the Crimson Accords – with nothing but the truth.**

The Emperor noted, "OK, THAT TOPPED THE TIME STEALING THING."


	21. warhammer 45k part two

this was made by the stormlord

forum/threads/warhammer-45k.212112/#post-5054500

* * *

The Tech priest was making repairs to the projector and stated to the Emperor, "How you managed to make this thing speak Russian I will never know." The Emperor said, "I AM HONESTLY UNSURE MYSELF." The tech priest played the video.

**In the Time of Darkness begun with the ascension of the Emperor, the thousand Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes took many paths. Some became bitter martial tyrants, steadfastly holding power, warring with each other and with the various petty Imperiums. Others fell to the seductive whispers of the Ruinous Powers; yet others began to serve a more terrible master - the Holy Tyrant. One thing is certain - in the Time of Darkness, no one and nothing was or is safe.**

Rogal noted, "That is true." Perturabo hit him..  
**  
_** The Final Crusade: Fall of the Black Templars**_**

Rogal looked angry, "What are my zealot sons up to here." **_**  
**_  
When the Opening of the Eye of Terra came, the Black Templars were among the most vigilant and courageous defenders of the Imperium. But events would turn them to the cruel embrace of the Holy Tyrant. Upon the apotheosis of the Emperor, the birth of the Tyrant from the cruelty of the Imperium and the misled worship of the Ministorum, the Black Templars were all struck by a vision of such purity that they resolved to make it a reality. The vision's command was to raze the Cardinal World of Ophelia VII, because (as it claimed) the Eclessiarchy, decapitated at this stage, were fools whose worship of the Emperor was lax and heretical. The Black Templars were torn over whether this vision was reality or a trick - in the end Helbrecht, urging a relentless attack and deluded by the voice of the Tyrant, won out. Helbrecht's warriors fell on Ophelia with great slaughter, razing the world to ashes as Arco-Flagellant and Penitent Engine fought Land Raider and Space Marine. A group of Battle Sisters managed to escape to the nearby world of Valeria, founding a Petty Imperium (but that is a tale for another time) but all life on Ophelia was wiped out.**

Lorgar was very shamefaced.  
**  
Then, the Holy Tyrant decided to break the Black Templars, revealing that they had been misled when they had razed Ophelia. Angered at this deception, Helbrecht rushed to Terra in an attempt to slay the source of these visions. What fools they were, what holy and pathetic fools, for as they approached Terra they entered the space where the power of the Tyrant reigned supreme, the very Eye of Terra itself. Helbrecht was personally brought into the Immaterium, where he ascended the Impossible Spire that was the heart of the Holy Tyrant's power. To imagine the Impossible Spire, envision a great, infinitely tall tower made of shining gold, a visage of oppression made manifest. In the hinterland of the Spire rise lesser towers and fortresses, battlement upon battlement, tower upon tower, crenellations, great walls, mighty gates built solely to oppress the soul. At the Spire's tip, shines a light that is the Holy Tyrant. Describing the Tyrant is equally hard, for his form in the Immaterium is but a metaphor for the divinity. Covered in gold, flowing armour, the Tyrant carries a blade and his other hand is a mighty claw. His face is that of every dictator, every warlord, every overseer, every schoolyard bully, everybody that oppresses, everybody who seeks power for the sake of it. The Tyrant exists to oppress and exert power, and all who do this worship him in their heart. To behold him is the true meaning of epiphany - to see a god in the flesh.**

The Emperor was horrorfied by what his Chaos God counterpart looked like.  
**  
The Tyrant spoke one word, face-to-face, to Helbrecht.**

**'OBEY'.**

**And Helbrecht could not entertain any conception of independence longer, faced with a god's command. With their leader turned into a puppet of the Holy Tyrant and their fleet caught in the ultimate expression of his power, the Black Templars fell swiftly into his worship. All well for the Tyrant, for he needed servants that could act in the Materium, and what better prize than the Black Templars?**

Rogal then observed, "The most fanatical of Space Marines are the unthiniking servants of a divine tyrant. How fitting."  
**  
_**The Sanguinary Wars**_**

Sanguinius paled at this name.  
**  
The Sanguinary Wars were a disaster for the Blood Angels Chapter and their Successors, as they tore themselves apart. Some argue that they could have been stopped, could have been prevented, while yet others believe that the flaws inherent in the Sanguinius gene-line made them inevitable. Whatever the case, what is known is this - fully half the Blood Angels successor Chapters turned into little more than feral beasts, degrading from pillars of reason and virtue into slobbering monsters. The rampages they wrought are horrific, on Cretacia, Crucior, and many other worlds set aflame by the rampaging hosts.**

Sanguinius went from pale to worried.  
**  
The first of the Sanguinary Wars took place mere years after the birth of the Holy Tyrant during a general period of chaos and fragmentation, and was largely confined to Cretacia and surrounding systems. This did not make its impact any less vile or horrific. The entire Flesh Tearers Chapter, renowned for their acts of brutality, fell into the Black Rage simultaneously. The Blood Angels were the first to respond, as the Flesh Tearers slaughtered whole worlds. The fighting was ferocious as two mighty Astartes Chapters tore into each other. The only mercy the forces arrayed against the Flesh Tearers recieved was that the Chapter was divided, and, in their blood-maddened state, could be taken out piecemeal. The Siege of Cretacia was the greatest battle of the war. The Flesh Tearers' Fortress-Monastery was home not only to the bulk of the Chapter's fighters, but also blood-maddened _things _that had once been Astartes, released from their prisons in the chaos. The Blood Angels fought through a sea of the abominations, giving each and every one the Emperor's Mercy from the barrels of their bolt-guns.**

**Chapter Master Seth, still maintaining a vestige of sanity but helpless to control his body's actions, battled Dante of the Blood Angels. Seth screamed inside as he in a show of pure ferocity, ripped Dante limb from limb. Brother-Captain Rafen, bearer of the Spear of Tellesto, artefact of Sanguinius himself, entered too late to affect the battle's outcome, forced to watch as his Chapter Master was ripped to shreds and cast onto a pillar. Seth, rushing toward the Brother-Captain, would have torn him too apart if not for the personal intervention of Mephiston, the Lord of Death. With a glance, the Flesh Tearers Chapter Master was reduced to charred bone. Rafen was declared Chapter Master of the Blood Angels shortly afterward.**

**Thus ended the first of the Sanguinary Wars, with the utter destruction of the Flesh Tearers...**

**[FURTHER INFORMATION IS RESTRICTED]**

The video ended, and the Tech Priest noted, "That's the end of that file."


	22. prince of the eye part thirteen

this was made by Zahariel

s/13366753/13/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-12#post-60143584

* * *

With Magnus's future self being the only member of the Crimson Accords that still fought the corrupted Horus, the room wondered how the Tzeentchian primarch would react.

**Lorgar's withdrawal and the fracturing of the Seventeenth Legion's leadership cemented the turning of the tides in the Legion Wars. Under the Warmaster's guidance, the Horusians launched an aggressive campaign of conquest on the territories of the Crimson Accords. Minor powers that had aligned themselves with Lorgar and Magnus changed sides, paying a heavy price in flesh and resources in order to appease the Warmaster's wrath.**

The tech priest played a quote, "An eye for an eye."  
**  
Though Lorgar had abandoned the war, Magnus had not, and the Crimson King was an enemy to be feared. His attempts at drawing Lorgar out of his revelation-induced withdrawal failed, leaving the Cyclops in sole control of those forces still loyal to the spirit of the Crimson Accords. From his Tower on Sortiarius, Magnus performed many great feats of sorcery whose effects reached across the Eye and granted infernal assistance to his armies.**

Russ looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.  
**  
On Maeleum, Horus received reports of these rituals' effects : the earth opening beneath rolling tanks, rains of acid falling from clear skies upon mortal armies, Warp eruptions that swallowed whole companies of Astartes and spat out twisted monstrosities. The Warmaster doubted that his brother could keep up such things for long : there was a cost for all sorcery, and even a Daemon Primarch could not escape the backlash forever. But he could not (he would not) simply wait to outlast the storm of Magnus' fury, and waste the lives of his warriors to a war that was ultimately a test at best, and a distraction at worst.**

Magnus looked impressed by what his counterpart was doing, but knew the cost was far to high.  
**  
Instead, Horus called for Ahriman, and commanded him to go to the Planet of the Sorcerers and bring an end to the Legion Wars once and for all. The assaults on enemy daemon worlds stopped, and the Warmaster recalled the forces thus freed to the Sixteenth Legion's homeworld, before placing them under Ahriman's command. It was a mighty fleet indeed, counting hundreds of ships and nearly twenty thousand Legionaries from several different Legions. Some of the warlords resented being placed under the leadership of one who bore the same blood as their enemies, but they were silenced by the presence of none other than Ezekyle Abaddon at Ahriman's side. Whether the First Captain was given the assignment to keep the fleet under control, or as insurance against any last-minute treachery on the Exile's part, only he and the Warmaster knew.**

**At the head of this fleet was the Vengeful Spirit herself, which had already played a key part in the Legion Wars. The prowess of the Gloriana-class battleship had been respected by the Traitor Legions before : now they feared her guns, which seemed to hunger for their blood. The flagship and a handful of escorts were the whole of the Sixteenth Legion presence amidst the fleet : the rest were Night Lords, Dark Angels (though Vortigern was no part of the force, being left to direct the defense of one of the fronts), and an assortment of warbands from the other, neutral Legions. Ships of the Death Guard had quietly arrived to Maeleum as the fleet gathered, having learned of its purpose through means unknown and seeking to participate in the assault on the homeworld of the Legion of their Dark God's rival.**

Mortarion felt a strange mixture of pride and disgust at his sons actions.  
**  
Once preparations were complete, the fleet left Maeleum on a direct course to Sortiarius. Here, the unique nature of travel through the Eye worked in the Horusians' favor : there were no Warp routes they needed to follow, no need to emerge from the Empyrean at the Mandeville Points of the systems they had to cross. With the Cabalites scattered among the fleet and linked to one another telepathically, the fleet could brave the madness of the storms and sail straight for the Planet of the Sorcerers.**

**Of course, the fleet's Warp displacement guaranteed that the Crimson King knew about it as soon as it left, if not before. But Horus was gambling that one spear thrust, aimed at the heart of enemy territory, could crash through whatever defenses Magnus could raise in its path fast enough. He aimed to end the war faster than the grinding warfare that would otherwise be needed to reduce the influence of the Crimson Accords forces to the point where they stopped being a threat (something that, given the capabilities of some Thousand Sons and Dark Apostles, could very well require the full purge of two Legions which were supposed to be on his side in the Long War). It was a tactic that the Sons of Horus had mastered during the Great Crusade, and often used during the rebellion, though it had ultimately failed them at Terra.**

**The Horusian fleet slammed into Sortiarius' defenses the moment they emerged from the storm and entered the pocket of more-or-less stable reality around the Planet of the Sorcerers, where the laws of physics were only carelessly broken rather than chewed on, digested and spat back out, transformed into the whimsical nightmares of mad godlings.**

The Emperor chuckled at this apt description of Warp space.  
**  
Magnus had called all the forces he could to help defend Sortiarius, and many had answered the call. A gauntlet of ships, defense stations and other, stranger things awaited Ahriman and Abaddon. The First Captain of the Sons of Horus took command of the battle, while the Exile went into the depths of the Vengeful Spirit and began the final step of the plan he had begun to conceive when Horus had given him this mission. Using the connection that lingered between him, Sortiarius and Magnus (leftover from the great spell that had transported the Thousand Sons there from Prospero), he opened a rift between the flagship and the top of the Tower of the Cyclops and walked through, armed with his Black Staff and an athame dagger.**

**The Crimson King was there, watching the battle unfold in the heavens with his burning eye. What happened next is unclear : Ahzek could not have hoped to defeat Magnus alone, not even with the Crimson King's focus being on the war above. But, somehow, perhaps by channelling the sorcerous backlash that had accumulated through Magnus' reckless support of the Crimson Accords forces, the Exile managed to bring his Primarch to his knees.**

Magnus watched the screen with rapt attention.  
**  
Whatever the Exile intended to do next was interrupted by the sudden arrival of someone Ahriman knew of old. Iskandar Khayon, Captain of the Thousand Sons and once a member of Ahriman's Cabal, before turning on them and trying to stop the Rubric when it had started to go wrong. The red of his armor was as vivid as Ahriman's azure, and the two of them clashed atop the Tower, before the subsumed form of their Daemon Primarch.**

**"Was it not enough to kill us, Ahzek ?! You had to betray us to Horus as well ?!"**

**"What I do, I do for us all. For Tizca. For Prospero."**

**"Then you are foolish as well as damned."**

**"... I am aware, brother."**

**Exchange between Iskandar Khayon and Ahzek Ahriman**

**In the end, Ahriman killed Iskandar, shattering his brother's prized axe Saern with the Black Staff before burying the athame that had been meant for Magnus into his hearts. But by then, it was too late. Before the Scarab Guard Terminators flying up the Tower on bound Screamers of Tzeentch could stop him, Ahriman teleported back aboard the Vengeful Spirit, leaving Magnus to recover from the sorcerous blow. Khayon's body was carried away by his bloodward, a black-winged Dark Eldar, who took it back to his ship, the Tlaloc. The vessel left Sortiarius soon after, without answering any hail of the Thousand Sons or their allies.**

Vulkan watched as a traitor was saved by a Dark Eldar with hate.  
**  
Though Ahriman's gambit had failed thanks to Khayon's sacrifice, Magnus was forced to recognize that he could no longer hope to win the Legion Wars. As the Horusian fleet finished off the remnants of the gauntlet and prepared for a direct attack on Sortiarius, the Crimson King sent a psychic message. It wasn't addressed to the attackers, nor to his renegade son (though both heard it nonetheless), but to his brother Horus himself.**

**In essence, the message was a plea for peace and an offering all in one. Magnus knew that Horus sought vengeance over the Imperium more than he desired to destroy the Fifteenth Legion, and in exchange for the withdrawal of the Horusian fleet and a détente of the relationship between the Crimson Accords and the Warmaster's growing empire, he offered the keys to escaping the Eye of Terror.**

The tech priest played a line from a popular book from the 23rd century, "And the cyclops lord accepted his defeat, and gave lucifer the keys out of hell."  
**  
Horus accepted Magnus' offer. The fleet returned to Maeleum, with an emissary carrying the Crimson King's tribute held aboard the Vengeful Spirit. The envoy was dragged in chains before Horus, and revealed the gift of his Primarch : a set of rituals, designed by the Crimson King. When performed by mortals outside the Eye of Terror, these rituals would open Warp portals between their location and the Eye, effectively enabling the summoning of Astartes beyond the borders of their prison. With this, they could bypass the Cadian Gate, though the rituals would not work for anything bigger than a Terminator - not without significant modifications to accommodate for the increase in scope, at least.**

Horus let out a "hmm" and noted, "Small strike teams underminding a truly powerful enemy. That could work."  
**  
Ahriman and the other Caballing Sorcerers studied the rituals they extracted from the opened mind of the envoy (which was devoid of anything other than his mission, his mind having been wiped clean by Magnus beforehand). They found that the envoy had spoken true, and the rituals could be adapted in order to "resonate" with different daemon worlds. They had also discovered several backdoors which could be used by powerful Sorcerers who knew of them to sabotage the rituals or subvert them, but such treachery had been expected from the Daemon Primarch of Tzeentch (if Magnus had even known they were there).**

The tech priest played the next line, "The devil knew that the cyclops could never be trusted, and accounted for that in his plans."  
**  
The Cabalites presented their findings to Horus, who considered his options. After several hours of deliberation and discussion with his warlords, Horus ordered that an Eye-wide cease-fire be enacted between the Horusians and the Crimson Accords. The Legion Wars were ended, though there would always be spots of warfare between individual warbands – it was only the greater conflict that was over. To prevent the Wars from erupting again in the future, Horus sent emissaries of his own to all other Legions, bringing copies of Magnus' rituals. Two ill-favoured sons were sent to the World Eaters and the Death Guard, and only one of them returned alive, but by the end all Traitor Legions had access to the rituals.**

Angron seethed at his future sons and the tech priest played the next line, "And thou hell would always have fights, war would never blight hell."  
**  
But useful as they had the potential to be, the rituals couldn't serve their purpose unless they were in mortal hands outside the Eye of Terror. And so Horus thought on what Morgana had told him, and began to enact his plan for the next phase of the Long War.**

The room grew silent at the implications of the next move undertaken by the corrupted Horus, with only the tech priest playing the last line of the book section he was quoting, "Hells foundery's did not stope, and upon his throne Lucifer brooded. He looked to the golden gates of heaven, and made a promise. No matter how long it took, even if it was 10,000 years or more he would break the golden gates of Heaven and claim what he belived was his."


	23. shape of the nightmare to come part 3

hey folks, sorry for the schedule slip. the college I go to has become an online college for this semester due to the COVID-19 pandemic and its an adjustment. I know trump is rarely right, but I hope that this new coronavirus (common cold and flu are coronaviruses) disappears by april, or goes the way of swine flu and becomes just another variation on the flu we get in flu season. I hope life can go back to normal soon.

if nurgle was real he would surely be winning in the great game.

but getting on topic, this was made by lordlucan

/wiki/Story:The_Shape_Of_The_Nightmare_To_Come_50k_section02

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The next video was put in, and many were curious what would happen next in this horrible dark future. Given what they had learned of the Tau, they had thrown a party for the Necrons of all beings. There idealism was misplaced yes, but willingly throwing a party for undead androids showed so much idealism and hope it was staggering. How had things gotten so bad as to break them.

**Section 02: The Situation in the East: The Tau Empire**  
**  
The Eastern fringe. Ever a realm barely touched by Imperial influence, it was initially the least effected by the fall of the Imperium (No Petty Imperia ever formed from the ashes of Imperial rule in the Eastern Fringe). The area merely became marginally more anarchic and barbarous. However, the devastation of Hive Fleet Kraken, and later Hive Fleet Talos, ravaged the Fringe horrendously. Soon after, the New Devourer surged from the west, murdering thousands of worlds. A hundred dozen civilizations were wiped out, and when the various hordes of monsters left the Fringe was utterly fragmented. Countless worlds were left as nothing but bare rocks.**

Corvus murmed gloomily, "Nowhere is safe." ****

**Of course, as with most genocides and disasters, history and life did not disappear. Some races, and even empires, managed to evade destruction either through guile, luck or sheer blood-mindedness. The largest of the surviving empires was the Tau Empire. In fact, because the Tau did not rely upon the 'deep' Warp for travel, the crippling warp storms throughout the galaxy did little to hamper them. With little opposition, the Tau embarked upon multiple expansions, on multiple fronts. Their optimism and hope seemed frankly surreal to the crippled, dying civilizations around them. However, this idealism and hope soon faded, just like everything else. Everywhere they tried to bring the Greater Good was dead. The Tau expanded into their inheritance. They were, however, inheriting a galaxy of ash. Ash and cold misery.**

The Emperor noted, "YEAH, THAT WOULD BREAK ANYONE."  
**  
Sometime around M43, during the eighteenth and nineteenth sphere expansions, Tau policy began to subtly change. The Ethereals no longer recommended offering civilizations the chance to join the Greater Good. It was decided, at the Aun Council of 234. M43 (presided over by Aun'Va himself), that the other races of the galaxy were hopelessly barbarous. The other races allowed their worlds to die, they made war with each other, even when unity would be the best option in the wake of such an atrocity. In short, they must be forced into submission, and their people ruled over by the only beings capable of logical, spiritual thought: the Ethereals.**

Roboute noted, "Once again, not exactly unreasonable." ****

**By 003. M44, a dozen decades into the hundredth sphere expansion, the Tau Empire stretched from the dead worlds of Ichar to the barren howling worlds of Alsanta. In total, it spanned roughly two dozen sectors, and comprised just over a thousand worlds. Perhaps 55% of these worlds were dead. And during the slow, agonizing process of terraforming (involving constant bombardment with bio-engineered algae and various Pechoid plant accelerants , which nonetheless took millennia to make worlds fully habitable) the Tau had become slightly more xenophobic. For instance, client races were forbidden from electing leaders of the various Sept systems and were confined to the poorest habitations upon worlds. This was the _Tau_ Empire, and the Tau wanted everyone to understand this. The other races were inferior, as they had ruined paradise with their wars.**

The tech priest noted, "It is a slippery slope the Tau are walking."****

**Communication was slow but frequent in this expanded Tau Empire. Without astropaths, they relied on the billions of communication drones and messenger boats which pulsed near constantly between Septs, only leaving the 'shallow' warp when delivering messages. As the Empire's borders advanced, so did its technology. Their ships became more heavily armed and protected than ever before. Limited cloning and genetic technology allowed greater medical care, with each Tau having access to multiple cloned blood samples, limbs, and even eyes. Drone technology gained greater and greater sophistication, and the first entirely drone-controlled battle computer was released in 103. M44. Pulse weaponry became more reliable and effective, and gunships and battlesuits of unprecedented quality were invented during this period. In the Segmentum Tempestus, the Tau were at the center of power.**

**Yet, for all its unity and promise, the Tau empire could not maintain a completely centralized Empire, despite their best efforts. Space was too vast, and their vessels too slow. Some Septs were barely visited by the central authorities, while others had vast Aun control set upon them. However, most continued to follow the Greater Good according to Aun'Va and the orthodox council of the Ethereals. There were, however, two major exceptions.**

Fulgrim let out an intrigued "Hmm"****

**The Enclaves, Tau colonies cut off from the Empire by warp anomalies in late M41, became all the more isolated in the 42nd millennium as the anomaly became a raging warp storm. It was not until M43 that news of the Enclaves were heard, and they had changed markedly. Without the Ethereals, the Enclaves became a realm dominated by the Fire Caste. The Greater Good, as a concept, had been rejected by these Tau. Only grim resolve and a strong arm allowed survival in a hostile galaxy. The Caste system was virtually abolished, and inter-caste mingling was not outlawed. Only the Fire Caste, the new military elite, remained aloof of caste interbreeding. However, though not enforced, the caste system remained in spirit, as each caste intrinsically distrusted the other. Even more strangely, the Farsight Enclaves now operated under a sort of decentralized vassal system. Territories upon Enclave worlds were carved up between the new Caste-within-a-Caste, the Shas'Kasar. Each of these powerful warlords had acquired battlesuits, and each of these Kasar maintained their own little fiefdom. They maintained many Fire Caste soldiers as their vassals. Each of these fiefs sheltered other Caste members, on the assumption they would provide a tax to their lords, in exchange for protection. The Shas'Kasar, in turn owed allegiance to the Shas'O'Shovah'Kasar, the overall grand Kasar of the Enclaves. For many centuries this rank was held by Farsight himself. However, after his death this rank passed to his sons, and became, in effect, hereditary (Though through the centuries, the position of Grand Kasar has been disputed and the line of succession is a tangled web, far too complex to go into here). Upon the passing of a Grand Kasar, the ceremonial armour of Farsight is granted to them, and they are anointed Grand Kasar, by kissing the hilt of the Dawnblade, the symbol of Enclave liberty (A blade no longer drawn by Enclave Tau, but instead enshrined within Farsight's tomb upon the world of Fio-Mon'Tarra.**

Russ snarked, "Of course the first they explain is the one we already know about." ****

**To survive, the Enclaves abandoned the concept of refining their technology. Instead, they relied on trade between rival empires and between merchants and the like. Thus, the Enclaves became a melting pot of differing technologies, all utilized by the Kasar in order to survive. Though not as technologically advanced as their Tau neighbors, the Enclaves have large numbers of Fire Caste warriors and a willingness to use xenos equipment should the need arise. For instance, there are several occasions where Enclave troopers have been seen wielding Imperial lasguns and carapace armour, Daconial nano-crystalline armour, digital weapons or other such gear. These in conjunction with Tau technology in some strange hybridization of technology. So far, it has kept them relatively powerful and resistant to sporadic Tau Empire assaults.**

The technology used by the farsight enclaves were interesting, to say the least.  
**  
The second subversive element came into being much later. By M43, the Empire was in full expansive operations. However, it took several centuries until the process of colonization and organisation of Water Caste administration could be fully implemented on every Sept world and system. One such neglected Sept colony was the To'Kaan Sept, located on the northern border of Tau expansion across the Fringe, and one of the most distant colonies in the Empire. Though a verdant world, it was colonized late on, as the Aun were only being able to spare a single exploration fleet to inhabit it. To bolster numbers in the colonial army, many Gue'Vesa auxiliary troops were utilized. To'Kaan was subdued by this combined force, though the battle was difficult, due to the fanatical resolve of the native warrior Hu'Sta, a human tribal culture that made excellent use of captured Tau equipment during the year-long invasion. Aun'Kais, the commanding ethereal on the expedition, was so impressed with the Hu'Sta's abilities that he offered them roles within the occupying Tau forces. Though the Tau Fire Caste were skeptical of these uncivilized warriors, the Gue'Vesa took to them very well, instructing them on the philosophies of the Greater Good and training them in the use of Tau equipment (even though the Hu'Sta had utilized much of the Tau equipment already, during the war). In turn, the Hu'Sta explained how they worshipped the Great White Serpent, and also taught the Gue'Vesa some of their ambush techniques and unique battle tactics.**

Fulgrim's eyes wided and he asked aloud, "Do you think that they mean me?" Rogal, as blunt as ever, said, "Probobly." Fulgrim looked depressed and Rogal was hit telekentically by the Emperor.  
**  
As the colony became less and less visited by the Tau central authority, Aun'Kais became more and more reliant upon his various Gue'Vesa subjects to fend off threats to his colony. Though the expedition was well-staffed by Water, Earth and Air Caste, the Fire Caste sent had been a smaller number to begin with. The wars against the Hu'Sta depleted them further and over the centuries, the Fire Warriors became less and less viable as a fighting force as their numbers weren't being replaced as well as their Gue'Vesa-He'Sta allies could. The Gue'O of the He'Sta contingent, Baldan Rar, got closer to Aun'Kais than any other commander. The two often consulted one another upon tactics and strategies. Aun'Kais would often get advice from Baldan on how to keep the majority of the human population of the Sept colony appeased. As a result, Aun'Kais would entrust more and more duties to them. The Hu'Sta converted to the philosophy of the Greater Good rather well, incorporating their serpent god into the myriad meanings of it.**

The Emperor couldn't help but see parallels between the Hu'Sta and the Imperial Creed. ****

**Upon the death of Aun'Kais, a dispute broke out among the remaining subordinate Ethereals. Several of them recommended themselves for the role of overall colonial leader. There was an important distinction between the two main groups that built up amongst the Ethereals. There were the Traditionalists, who argued that upon becoming supreme Sept Aun, the Fire Caste should be put in overall command of defense once more. The other group were the pro-Gue, who believed the Gue'Vesa had been doing a perfectly fine job of defending the realm. In the end, through honour duels, personal and public elections, and outright intrigue, the pro-Gue group got their wish, and Baldan remained overall military commander. Oddly for the Traditionalists, Baldan's supporters were not just from the Gue'Vesa and the general human population, but also from the majority of the Earth and Water Castes. The successor to the Aunship of the Sept fell to Aun'J'Karra. As it would transpire, this Ethereal was rather weak as a leader and was virtually a puppet for Baldan and his successors.**

**By the time more regular contact had been established by the Tau Empire with To'Kaan, in 335.M46, it was barely recognizable as a Tau Sept world. Humans and Tau were almost treated as equals, with the Tau filling in most non-military roles, while the militant 'Gue Caste' sat on the council of castes and fought at the front of most assaults, while the only Fire Caste remaining piloted the battlesuits (tailored as they were, for Tau alone). Chief Commander Moonheart of the Tau Empire forces, even requested permission to invade To'Kaan, and 'cleanse' it of its perceived subversion of the Greater Good. Aun'Va however, vetoed this plan, and decided to instead recognize the right of To'Kaan, nick-named the 'human colony', as being part of the Empire. This was mainly because the Hu'Sta had completely converted to the Greater Good, only their brutal tribal war clubs (wielded in battle by every Hu'Sta Gue'Vesa) remained of their old culture. The Gue'Vesa contingent were there to stay, and would eventually become a key ally to the Tau Empire in the long war against the Thexian Elite (Which will be documented at a later date).**

As the video ended the entire room realized that it was true what the Lion had said earlier. That the Tau were at the place the Imperium was in the 41st century. The Greater Good was the Imperial Creed, and all worlds were accepted as long as they served.


	24. prince of the eye part 14

sorry for the schedule slip again, I forgot to post yesterday. I might have jinxed it when I said i'd post every Monday and Wednesday.

this story was made by Zahariel.

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-13#post-60473047

s/13366753/14/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest played the holovid as the entire room put there minds to work out how the corrupted Horus would go about attacking the Imperium. Not even Horus could really come to a conclusion he felt confident in given the eldritch nature of Chaos.

**With the Eye of Terror more or less pacified and the Horusian Dominion secure, the Warmaster turned his gaze upon the Imperium once more. The rituals of Magnus may offer the Traitor Legions a way out of their infernal prison, but they must first be spread outside the Eye to serve. Furthermore, it was clear that, at best, these rituals would only be able to grant passage to a handful of Chaos Marines at a time – unless those performing them had access to resources on such a scale, they probably already controlled the planet on which the rituals were taking place.**

Roboute murmured, "That would limit the possible usefulness of the rituals."

**It was clear to the Warmaster that the Long War would need to be fought in a very different manner than the Great Crusade and the rebellion. His armies were much diminished compared to those he had commanded during the Heresy : a direct confrontation with the might of the Imperium would end in his defeat, no matter what clever strategems and superior tactics he brought to bear – and, with his brothers in the opposing ranks, it wasn't even guaranteed these would succeed.**

Horus nodded at that, still disturbed at how similar the thing he had become really was to himself.

**But what Morgana had told him of the Imperial Creed had revealed to him a new avenue of attack. Instead of seeking to invade the Imperium and subjugate its people to his will, dragging them kicking and screaming into the Primordial Truth, he would need to present himself and his Warp-born allies as an alternative to the unquestioning obedience demanded by Terra. The rebellion had begun as opposition to the Emperor's plans to reach godhood and enslave all of Mankind, after all, before the whispers of Chaos had led each of the Traitor Legions down the Path to Glory.**

**The Long War would not be fought for dominion over the stars and the worlds of the Imperium, but for the very soul of Humanity. Over the course of centuries – millennia, most likely – the false faith of the Imperial Creed would be eroded, replaced by a million variances on the Primordial Truths (or any philosophy that stood in opposition with the Ecclesiarchy, where necessary). The Imperium would crumble as the mortar of the Imperial Creed was removed, and the Traitor Legions would provide support for the rebels, lending them their might and their strategic acumen. Slowly, the might of the Imperium would be weakened, until the time was right and Horus could lead the forces of the Eye into the rest of the galaxy and claim the throne that was rightfully his.**

The Emperor looked enraged, and the Chaos Gods came under attack by fiery angels. The Tech Priest knew that it didn't matter if this corrupted Horus was the mindless slave of the Chaos Gods or had broken free of them only to be just as bad as they were, the Ruinious Powers still god what they wanted. The Eternal Tyrant would either not be born or be just another Reality Tumor.

**First, however, Horus needed to remind the Imperium of his and his brethren's existence, that the new ideologies and the rituals may take root.**

Angron snarked, "Yeah, that would be pretty important."

**According to Morgana, in the aftermath of the Heresy, the annals of the Imperium had been purged. Only the Astartes and a handful of Imperial leaders even knew that the Traitor Legions had existed at all. Their existence had been expunged from all but a handful of archives, their victories during the Great Crusade attributed to other Legions. Instead, the Ecclesiarchy had created a thousand myths out of whole cloth, such as the one depicting the Emperor's nine sons battling the nine Scions of Darkness, created by daemons to serve as their agents in the galaxy, in the war that led to Him being seated on the Golden Throne.**

**While he was quietly enraged by this, Horus also saw the opportunity offered by such blatant revisionism of history. The people of the Imperium had been conditionned to accept what they had been told without question, kept in a state of ignorance that was supposed to prevent them from falling for the whispers of the Ruinous Powers. But the Warmaster, ever the cunning demagogue, knew that this very ignorance could be turned to his advantage if he played his cards right.**

Perturabo dourly noted, "I'm surprised something like that hadn't happened in the time line we would have headed down."

**In 781.M31, several decades after Morgana's flight into the Eye of Terror and the end of the Legion Wars, Horus enacted his latest scheme. After eight years of ill portents and nightmares all across the Segmentum Obscurus, a fleet burst out of the Cadian Gate and assaulted the defenses raised upon that world by Rogal Dorn. A hundred Legion warships from the First, Eighth and Sixteenth Legions, led by the Vengeful Spirit, sailed forth from the storm and toward Cadia.**

Many were impressed by the chaos fleet.

**At the head of that armada was Horus himself, whose power blazed in the Empyrean like a dark beacon, a shadowy reflection of the Astronomican's own light. The Warmaster had used his own dark gifts to open a path through the Eye of Terror's outskirts, which were the most violent and dangerous region of the Eye, so that his fleet could pass through without being destroyed. The other Daemon Primarchs and Lords of Chaos had sensed this, and were in envious awe of Horus' power : while many of them knew paths that could allow a single vessel or a small flotilla to escape the Eye of Terror, none could throw open the Cadian Gate like this and bring forth a whole fleet.**

The power of the corrupted Horus's dark beacon could be felt even in the viewing room, and the Emperor flared a bit of his own power in response.

**He stood on the bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, his voice calm and collected as he directed his forces. He was utterly immobile, his concentration absolute. He could not let the power he had drawn into himself overcome him. He could not let this operation fail. He could not …**

**… he could not let anyone realize that a pool of dark blood was forming at his feet.**

**Cadia was surrounded by hundreds of orbital stations and fortresses. The Chaos fleet engaged these defenses, while Dorn – who by that point had remained on Cadia for nearly half a millennia – directed the Imperial Guard and Space Marine troops under his command.**

**The skies above Cadia burned, as orbital stations were obliterated by ship-fire or boarded by Legionary strike teams. Imperial Fists who had been born long after the Siege of Terra battled against their embittered, corrupted cousins, launching counter-boarding actions of their own. Despite the danger, members of the Inquisition, stationed at Cadia to watch its defenders for possible taint, took part in these actions with the goal of obtaining intelligence about the situation within the Eye of Terror, which could be priceless in the endless struggle against Chaos.**

Konrad wondered how the Inquisition had managed to fall from these heroes to the likes of Kazamov.

**Thousands of Imperials died with every minute, yet though the casualties were heavy, it was clear that the Chaos armada would not be able to break through Cadia's orbital defenses : and in truth, the Black Crusade, as it was later named, did not manage to land a single warrior on the planet's surface. (Though there would be tales, in years to come, of lone Chaos Marines who had survived the crash of their vessels and gone into hiding within Cadia's jungles).**

**"His strategy makes no sense. He must know that he cannot break through, that he cannot defeat our defenses with these numbers. What is he planning ? What am I not seeing ?"**

**Rogal Dorn, during the First Black Crusade**

Rogal snarked, "A lot actually." The room entered a stunned silence and the Tech Priest ran a self diagonostic. After all, he couldn't have heard Rogal Dorn snark.

**As the grinding battle continued, the next step of Horus' plan was activated. Along with a hundred Justaerin Terminators, the Warmaster teleported aboard one of Cadia's astropathic stations, slaughtering its defenders and seizing the astropathic choir before their termination protocols could be completed. Fifty soul-bound astropaths found themselves before Chaos' chosen champion, and what horrors they beheld with their sightless eyes, only the Emperor and the Dark Gods know. Then, Horus spoke, and through the astropaths he sent his voice throughout the galaxy, so that nearly every astropathic choir in the Imperium picked up upon his message. Thanks to the sorcerous preparations performed by the Cabalites before Horus had left the flagship, these astropaths on the receiving end of the Proclamation did not suffer any ill effect directly related to hearing the words of the Arch-Traitor – though millions of them were executed as a result.**

The Emperor flared his power once more, to ensure any dark magic woven into future Horus's speech was negated.

**"My father lied to me, just as His servants have lied to you, to keep you chained and blind while they reap the rewards of your toil. You sweat and bleed and die, but there is no blessed afterlife waiting for you on the other side, no horde of daemons waiting to devour your soul, held at bay by the Emperor's sacrifice. You are slaves, just as I was a slave. But I have broken free, and so can you. For I am no longer a slave, nor are my sons and those of my brothers who saw the truth.**

**I am Horus, Prince of the Eye, and I call to you all to rise and claim your freedom from the chains of lies that bind you, that deny you your rightful due, that stop you from reaching your true potential. I cannot free you alone, but what worth would such freedom have ?"**

**Excerpt from the Proclamation of Horus**

The Tech Priest noted, "Now we know where the title originated from."

**As all eyes were turned on the astropathic station, the stratagem of the self-proclaimed Prince of the Eye unfolded. At the edge of the system, where the Warmaster had parted the roiling seas of the Warp, hundreds of ships suddenly appeared. These vessels were much smaller and less powerful than the Legion warships which were attacking Cadia, and none of them could be identified in the Imperium's data-banks. They had been build by the Dark Mechanicum at Horus' command, and each of them carried within its hull hundreds of cultists, as well as Chaos relics, sorcerous tomes, and multiples copies of Magnus' summoning rituals. A few even carried lone Chaos Marines, who had been specially selected and trained to play their part in these ships' purpose.**

**While the defenders of Cadia fought against the Black Crusade's attack, the cult-ships scattered, making for the Mandeville Point. As soon as Dorn realized what they were attempting, the Praetorian diverted forces to intercept them; but while many were destroyed, most still made it to the system's edge and engaged their Warp engines, vanishing into the Aether. Each ship had received a destination, dredged from the annals of the Great Crusade still in the traitors' possession. Scattered across the galaxy, the cultists were to infiltrate Imperial society, capitalizing on the galaxy-wide Proclamation to plant the seeds of rebellion and Chaos worship, in disguises more palatable to human sanity. Outwardly, there was nothing to reveal the ships' allegiance : even someone visiting their decks could be fooled, so long as they were kept to the prepared sections.**

The Emperor felt a mixture of pride and disgust at the genius that was the Cult Ships. In the Warp Tzeentch started production of his own Cult Ships.

**As soon as the cult-ships had completed their translation, Horus' Legion forces began to disengage. Boarding parties withdrew to their ships or, when retreat wasn't possible, took down as many loyalists as possible before being cut down. Imperial strategists would later analyse records of the battle and declare that the retreat had been planned since the very beginning of the offensive : Dorn had been blind to it because, to him, the notion of Horus planning to retreat was unthinkable.**

Horus yelled at the screen, "Of course it was planned!"

**Within a handful of hours, the Chaos armada fled back into the Eye of Terror, the passage opened by Horus closing behind them before Dorn could give in to the urge to pursue. During the entire batte, the Praetorian had fought his desire to take to the field himself – he had known that he was no match for Horus, and his presence in the command center had been more important to the war effort than his personal contribution to the battle could have been.**

Rogal noted, "That is true." Perturabo hit him again.

**The remaining astropathic choirs sent messages to Terra and the rest of the Imperial hierarchy, including Guilliman on Maccrage. Wherever Sanguinius was at the moment, Dorn didn't doubt that his brother would learn about Horus' return and the scattering of his servants, if he did not already know. The mind of the Primarch of the Imperial Fists then turned to the consequences of Horus' Proclamation, and how they would need to adapt to the Arch-Traitor's latest strike against them.**

Rogal, while dazed, started making plans for a similar event should it happen.

**And in the Realms of Chaos, the Dark Gods watched, and smiled, pleased that their champion was playing the new part they had written for him.**

As the video ended, the Emperor started to tear up slightly.


	25. the arrested fall part two

ok, this time the schedule slip was intentional on my part. didn't want to get in trouble for double posting. I will try my best to get back to my usual posting schedule for this fic.

this was made by LordLucan

threads/the-arrested-fall-alternative-30k.258722/page-2#post-10779384

* * *

The tech priest started up the video, and the family watched the screen curious about this dark eldar empire.

**Faction One: The Vilethian Regime**

**[Note: All dates will be using the human dating system, for ease of reference.]**

Jagathai Khan snarked, "Well that's nice."  
**  
"Look to me now my people. Look forwards to your own glory and aggrandisement. Do not look to the past as the adherents of the Old Gods would desire. They are regressive and superstitious fools; they would shackle you and limit your minds. The Gods and their Young King demand you worship them, demand that you follow their rules and strictures. I ask only that you let me lead you to a better age. And age where we rule the not only material space, but the cosmic forces that govern them! Did not one of these most benevolent gods, slain our greatest heroes and lead our race into misery? And the Young King demands we bend the knee to these capricious monsters? I demand only that you become who you are destined to me, and enjoy the benefits of an empire beyond scarcity, beyond want! I have burned their temples, and they have not struck me down. I wield their greatest blade, plucked from the ruins of Belial IV, and I am not struck down. This is because I, Vileth the Beatific, am the true Phoenix King! And you, every last eldar that stands with me, are my Pantheon! Let all perish who deny us!"**

**\- [From Vileth's ascension speech, before the steps of the grand palace.]**

The Emperor was very conflicted. That very logic was the basis of the Imperial Truth, but it was being used by the very monsters it was meant to combat.  
**  
History:**

**By the start of the thirty first millennium, in the chronological reckoning of the mon keigh, the Eldar Empire was the greatest civilisation the galaxy had ever seen. Not since the long-vanished Necrontyr or Old One Empires had one race so utterly dominated the spiral arms of the milky way, from the halo stars to the core, their reach was tremendous and their reign secure.**

**For a million years they had reigned in relative peace and harmony with the other races of the galaxy. The minor races were left mostly to their own devices, gently monitored by the benevolent gaze of the Court of the Young King and the ruling councils of the eldar core worlds, located within the legendary Arcadian ring, which encompassed virtually the entire western side of the galactic disk. Races were tended to as a gardener might care for his fields. The galaxy was divided into thousands of segments, each with a vast worldship assigned to them. These world ships were bases of operations for colonial armies, and also administrative centres to govern the outer fringes of the galaxy, where eldar rule was less intense that around the Arcadian ring. Unbeknownst to the lesser species in question, the eldar portioned out galactic reserves, where these races were permitted to flourish. Those who seemed to grow too fecund or technologically powerful were curtailed. The orks remained uncontrollable, despite all the culls enacted over the years. They were like a persistent strangling weed, always causing low level strife. However, they were a broken species that would never likely challenge the eldar for the galactic crown.**

Fulgrim then noted, "So in this timeline the craftworlds aren't merchant ships but the ruling ships. Fascinating."  
**  
The last Great War the eldar had fought against a near equal was the horrific K'nib conflict, lasting from -345.M10 to -290.M9, which had plunged the galaxy into misery and caused widespread destruction. The eldar had vowed to avoid another Great War at all costs. The most recent (and infamous) example of such civilisational 'pruning' occurred with the mon keigh race.**

Magnus turned to the Emperor and asked, "Do you know what the K'nib are?" The Emperor shrugged.  
**  
A young and fiercely dynamic race, the eldar watched as the mon keigh developed their technologies, rapidly rising from sublight to warp travel to interstellar empires and colonies, all within a scant few millennia. The councils saw the 'humans' beginning to link their colonies via sophisticated warp communication devices, and develop powerful artificial intelligences. The eldar ruling councils recognised the early signs of a building galactic power, witnessing a future where the humans would dominate, and these seers petitioned the Court of the Young King to undo them.**

**This the eldar did by subverting their 'Iron Men' servants, sparking a human civil war which saw their empire splintering into hundreds of factions before it reached its potential. Humanity was forgotten, and peace returned to the galaxy at large. Peace brought with it greater leisure and the personal freedoms and quality of eldar life reached its peak. Scarcity was a myth by then, and the eldar grew ever more callous and self-involved.**

**The trouble reached its peak with the arrival of Vileth the Beatific on the political scene. Born on Arach-Cyn, a Core World near the heart of the empire, he was golden-haired and one of the most attractive and charismatic eldar in the galaxy. Vileth led a congregation of eldar, calling themselves 'The Muses of Slannesh'; they preached the attractive creed that there were no limits to what could be experienced and that every eldar had the potential to be an infinite being. This was utter heresy to the Old religions, which had temples on every street corner of the Core Worlds. But the eldar had slowly been losing faith with the gods, and the monarchy which claimed its authority through them. It had long been rumoured faith in the Pantheon no longer guaranteed reincarnation. Vileth's creed promised much; power, pleasure, liberty to do whatever you pleased. Soon enough, he and his Muses were granted places on the ruling councils, and built temples of their own, preaching worship of the self.**

Fulgrim seemed angry at these beings who preached the word of the god he would have fallen to.  
**  
But Vileth went further. He began to claim the gods were weak, and that the eldar need not be ruled by them, or the Royal House of Ulthanesh who claimed to channel their authority. Politicians and nobles who opposed Vileth began to die of mysterious causes that no authorities could detect. On a groundswell of support, Vileth rose ever higher in power, to the horror of the priests and aristocracy loyal to Asuryan's Pantheon.**

**Finally, forces loyal to Vileth stormed the Grand Palace on Asur, the eldar homeworld. Simultaneously, the Temple of Faces on Belial IV was attacked. A force of the monastic Exarch warriors held off the soldiers for as long as possible, allowing the priests to flee into the webway with as many of their holy texts as they could. Lilith Hesperax, one of Vileth's most lethal generals, had the temple burned to the ground, and had the sword Anaris, which was enshrined there, sent to Vileth at once**

Vulkan asked, "Isnt Lilith Hesperax one of the famous Dark Eldar?" The tech priest said, "Affirmiative Lord Vulkan."  
**  
Vileth took the palace, and captured the royal family. Their court was made to watch as the Young King, the Phoenix God's representation in the Materium, was put on trial. The trial was a farce, only the Muses of Vileth and his supporters were allowed to provide evidence of the King's crimes. Unsurprisingly, the King was sentenced to death. Before the wailing cries of his subjects, and the cruel laughter of Vileth's cronies, the executioner approached the King, who knelt before a block. A beheading; a primitive method of execution, which Vileth found fitting for a King who worshipped primitive tribal gods. The Imperial executioner wore his traditional armour of sculpted bone, and bore the great scythe, the symbol of Kaelis Ra. The executioner raised his blade.**

The Tech Priest noted, A Kangaroo Court."  
**  
But when the blade fell, it fell upon the guards restraining the King. Disgusted at what was demanded of him, the executioner, known to history as Maugan Ra, attacked Vileth's men, and managed to escape the palace with the Young King, escaping through the Labyrinth dimension to the port city of Commorragh, the last stronghold loyal to the Old Gods. Tragically however, Maugan Ra's allies within the court were not able to smuggle the rest of the King's family from the Palace. In his spiteful rage, Vileth killed them all, and trapped their souls in communication gems, so that he might sooth his fury with their despairing wailing. This sparked a two hundred year war in the webway between the Phoenix and the Serpent, which came to an uncertain conclusion when the eldar of the Old Gods found a permanent connection linking the Black Library and Commorragh, before they sealed off both from the rest of the webway.**

**Vileth was now uncontested ruler of the empire, and his new regime was one of spectacular arrogance and cruelty. His followers had overthrown the gods, and proven themselves to be divine themselves. His proclamation was sent out to every world ship, demanding the aliens of the galaxy worship the eldar as the gods they were. Those who would not would feel his divine wrath.**

Lorgar seethed at this.  
**  
The eldar learned that there were rumours spreading amongst the aliens of the galaxy, of a saviour born amongst the humans, who would topple the eldar, using his living weapons of mass destruction, born to fight the eldar and their patron. This mythic figure had no name, but a common name was 'Emperor', in mockery of Vileth's Imperial title. At first, Vileth dismissed this heresy as nothing more than backwards aliens telling tall tales. General Xelian had assured King Vileth the so-called Emperor was just a Terran mad scientist, who had died when the Iron Martians had sacked Terra, before the webway war had even started. If these alien fools were following the Emperor, then they were following a ghost.**

**His view changed after Istvaan III. The ruler of the little backwater world had apparently had an eldar killed, when said eldar had simply come to collect some mon keigh for a zoo on the coreworld Iydris.**

Horus murmed something his father and the tech priest had said repeatedly, "Constants and variables.",  
**  
Naturally, a Maton extermination fleet was sent out from the world ship to kill every creature on the planet for daring to harm even a single eldar. The fleet arrived quickly, and deployed a glass plague upon the entrenched inhabitants. To the annoyance of Liquivix, the Mistress-director of the Maton kill fleet, her robot army detected survivors of the plague. She sent her forces planetside, to kill them in direct assault. The battle raged across Istvaan III, the Maton found they fought a foe which almost matched them in power and relentless stubbornness. Giant mon keigh, bedecked in sophisticated powered armours, emerged from the ruins to fight them. They were lead by three titanic creatures that fought like avatars of the Old Gods themselves.**

Rogal noted, "Those are doubtlessly Primarchs." Perturabo punched him.  
**  
Liquivix watched this in mounting irritation from orbit. She decided to simply mass scatter the planet. As she prepared the obliteratrix devices in her ship's armoury, her fleet found itself ambushed by a colossal mon keigh armada, which seemed to shimmering into existence all around her fleet. Eventually, Liquivix's superiors onboard the Segment's worldship, arrived in the system, and made orbit around Istvaan V; the mon keigh animals must have realised a world ship's defences could kill their whole fleet on its own.**

**Istvaan III was gone, and there was little sign of the fleet that had attacked. Liquivix's battered fleet returned to the worldship for repairs. The arrogant eldar hadn't considered Liquivix's fleet was full of mon keigh giants, who burst forth to attack the worldship from the inside. The titanic Primarchs led the assault, and a tremendous battle ensued through the crystal-lined innards of the worldship. The ship's offensive capabilities were eventually knocked offline, and the mon keigh commander ordered his hidden ships to emerge once more, this time supported by even more human vessels warping into the system. No one ship seemed alike in design or armament; some seemed to cast purple ball lightning across the void, others had lances and lasers, others still unleashed swarms of nuclear missiles, or flung hypervelocity munitions at significant fractions of c. Thousands of vessels assaulted the worldship, and under such a bombardment, even a mighty eldar warship was gutted by the surprise attack, after only an hour of battle.**

**When the battle was done, the leader of the Primarchs, the so-called 'Warmaster', Horus Lupercal, had the last surviving eldar send a psychic message via waystone to the eldar high command. He denounced the eldar as false gods, declared humanity and its allies free and called on all species to unite and destroy the Vilethian Regime. In the name of the Emperor of the Insurgency of Man.**

**This bold attack was the spark which ignited the Human Heresy.**

**It had long been assumed by the eldar that the human realms were isolated, and hadn't the means to communicate with one another, let alone coordinate themselves. This was prove wrong when previously assumed to be independent empires, such as the mon keigh-xenos Interex alliance, the totalitarian Nostromon Imperium, the Republic of Kiavahr, the Kingdom of Ultramar, the Inwit empire, the Technocracy Pilgrim fleet, the Baalite League and many hundreds of other independent human congregations seemed to declare their allegiance to the Warmaster simultaneously, across the galaxy. Not only that, several alien races also began to throw their lot in with the rebels. The L'huraxi, the Tallerians, the Ne'kulli, the Demiurg; all made their loyalties clear. Mind-bogglingly, even the orks of Gharkul Blackfang seemed at first to have sided with Horus.**

**The Sslyth, Laer, Lacrymole and Nephillim races allied themselves with Vileth almost immediately, but many alien races remained unaligned in the opening stages of the Heresy.**

The name of various species that either served the Dark Gods, the Dark Eldar, or had fought against the Imperium allying with the slanneshi eldar was not suprising.  
**  
The Vilethian regime had been blindsided. Someone had clouded their prophetic abilities to orchestrate such a grand and prolific Insurgency. Vileth assumed it must have been his enemies amongst the Phoenix City, for he still did not believe in this supposed human messiah. This Horus, he was the instigator, and the Vilethian regime would see him fall.**

Angron noted, "Typical high rider arrogance."  
**  
Forces:**

**As befits the dominant military and economic power of the galaxy, the Imperial eldar have access to a vast industrial base and the ability to mobilise huge armies at short notice.**

**The backbone of the eldar's might are the Maton war machines. Maton is the name their enemies tend to give them, short for Automaton. The eldar name for them is long, but translates roughly as 'those who lack the luminous soul, but walk with great might and purpose in defence of the eldar'. Maton are tall bipedal machines, melding wraithbone, psycho-reactive plastics around reinforced bio-metallic skeletons. They range from ten to fifteen feet tall, based upon their specialisations. They are the faceless elite of the empire; relentless, emotionless soldier machines. Once activated and deployed upon a planet, they will systematically exterminate all sapient non-eldar entities using their wide array of weaponry, the most infamous being the distort cannon.**

The Tech Priest noted, "That eldar name is a pretty accurate name for a completely loyal robot." He then muttered in binary, "like that will ever happen."  
**  
While effective tools of terror and destruction, the Maton are unsubtle weapons. They are hardwired to be unable to attack eldar, so are of little use in battles between eldar forces, and also lack psychic weaponry.**

**This means the Vilethian regime still maintains large standing armies of eldar warriors, the greatest being Vileth's personal force from his home world, known as the Arach-Cyn Praetorians. Eldar are physically superior to humanity in every sense; they are both faster and stronger, with more powerful senses and the capacity to learn new skills rapidly. They also possess innate psychic abilities, which most military eldar channel into further enhancing their physical attributes. One eldar is generally considered the match of ten ordinary Insurgency Troopers. For the elite Arach-Cyn Praetorians, their abilities are complemented by their Scorpion pattern war plate and their unfettered access to the best weaponry, including the recently invented blaster rifles. The giant Legio Astartes of the mon keigh are considered more effective in a one on one engagement with a Praetorian, but the odds are less certain when two armies of these soldiers ever meet.**

**Whenever the alien auxiliary forces of the eldar are deployed, the eldar seem perfectly happy to feed them into the most dangerous and gruelling battlezones, to avoid the loss of even the most meagre of eldar lives.**

**The webway allows the rapid deployment of eldar armies and fleets across the galaxy, which is essential to the war effort, due to the dispersed nature of their foes. The most common vessels of the eldar are the dragonships; fleets of wraithships controlled by the guided will of only a handful of directing eldar souls. Dragonships are not particularly powerful individually, but their drone-like nature allows veritable swarms of these vessels to overwhelm an enemy fleet.**

**On the opposite side of the scale are the Void Dominators. These are large capital ships, and are the finest naval vessels the eldar possess. At the start of the heresy, no known Void Dominators had been destroyed by enemy action since they were first built. Unlike the scout-battleship Void Stalkers, Void Dominators are built not only for manoeuvrability, but also survivability and extreme firepower**

Fulgrim murmed, "Craftworlds."  
**  
As eldar age, they become more and more suffused with warp energy. The most ancient eldar are terrifying opponents, swift as bullets, strong enough to tear open armour with their bare hands, and capable of destroying scores of enemies with their formidable minds. Yet even these ancients require biomechanical power armoured suits in order to duel a Primarch entity on near to an equal footing.**

**The deranged techno-sorcerers of the empire under the direction of Magister Urien Rakarth, have also been busy devising new weapons and abominations to unleash upon the upstart rebels.**

Memories of the horrors of the Dark Mechanicum flashed through the minds of the room.  
**  
Though the eldar military machine is formidable, their primary weakness is their lack of experience. The last full scale galactic war they fought was so long ago; there were no living eldar who had first-hand knowledge of the event.**

Angron roared, "Those pansy knife ears don't even know how to fight!"


	26. prince of the eye part 15

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-15#post-61465255

s/13366753/15/Prince-of-the-Eye

also, I don't know if lasguns were around during the great crusade, so I am just gonna assume they are.

* * *

The tech priest let out an interested "Hmm" and said, "My Lords, it seems that this particular file has a different format that normal." Lorgar asked, "What do you mean by that?" The tech priest elaborated, "it appears to be a timeline detailing certain events during the rise of the Chaos Cults, starting at the proclamation and ending about halfway through M32." The Emperor then said, "PLAY IT." The tech priest pressed his replay button and let out a mechanical, "Rodger, rodger" and started up the video.

**781.M31 : The Proclamation**

**Under the leadership of Horus, the Black Crusade attacks Cadia. Chaos sorcery throws open the Cadian Gate, allowing Horusian forces to pour out of the Eye of Terror unhindered, and Cadia is besieged. Though the offensive is repelled by Rogal Dorn's defenses and suffers heavy casualties, Horus succeeds in broadcasting the heretical Proclamation throughout the entire galaxy, and hundreds of Eye-born ships scatter at the system's Mandeville point before the Traitor Legion forces withdraw through the Gate.**

**781-785.M31 : The Wrath of the Ordos**

**Across the million worlds of the Imperium, the Inquisition seeks to eliminate all traces of the Proclamation. Without coordination, the scattered Inquisitors hear the words of the Arch-Traitor, and immediately fall back upon the familiar methods of suppressing all heretical knowledge. They execute whole astropathic choirs, plunging entire star systems into communication black-outs, before going after those who have already heard the Proclamation's contents.**

**But the word cannot be stopped. Though billions are executed in the purges, most of the time, all this accomplishes is driving the surviving rebels in hiding, nursing a renewed hatred for the cruel, tyrannical ways of the Imperium. Eventually, the Lord Inquisitors manage to re-establish contact with the isolated systems and calm down their furious brethren, bitterly informing them that knowledge of the Proclamation cannot be suppressed, not unless they are willing to wipe out all but the entirety of the Imperium's population. In secret, some of the most radical Inquisitors consider that very option, but abandon it when they realize the surviving Primarchs would never stand for it.**

Everyone in the room was enraged, and in the future an insignificant man by the name of Fyodor Karamazov was struck by a panic attack, feeling the full force of the hatred of 20 god like beings.  
**  
785.M31 : The Seed of Evil**

**In the Lethe Sector, Imperial Navy patrols locate a ship heavily damaged by Warp transit and bearing no Imperial identifiers. After their hails are met with silence and an attempt to flee, the Captain in charge of the patrol orders the ship's engines disabled and the vessel boarded by the troops under his command. The boarders report heavy resistance from the human crew of the ship, as well as distressing iconography. When the Inquisition learns of this discovery, they order the entire patrol quarantined while they send their own forces to investigate.**

**It is discovered that the ship was one of those scattered during the Black Crusade. Exploring it reveals much of the purpose behind this dispersal of vessels, and the Inquisition begins a galaxy-wide hunt for the other cult-ships. As for the Imperial Navy patrol that found the ship, it is never heard of again, and records are altered to show that all vessels perished during an earlier engagement with pirates in the Sector.**

Konrad growled, and vowed that should his sons stay loyal (and he would do everything he could to ensure that) they would ensure that the Inquisition or whatever organization might come to fufill its role would not be able to abuse its power.  
**  
796.M31 : The New Rebels**

**On the Imperial world of Akrov's Gift, members of the nobility make a coup against the Governor, supported by revolutionary cells from among the workers of the planet's great Manufactoriums. Denouncing the burden of the Adeptus Administratum's heavy Tithe, they reject the rule of Terra, refusing to be part of the Imperium any longer. Imperial Guard forces sent to reclaim the planet are met with fierce resistance, and the moment the rebels seem to have lost momentum, a single squad of Sons of Horus launch a strike on the Astra Militarum's headquarters, slaughtering the commanders and leaving the rest of the Imperial forces leaderless. As Sector command ponder its options and Space Marine forces are dispatched to the area, an Inquisitor orders the Exterminatus of Akrov's Gift. The planet is destroyed, but many Akrovians manage to escape on ships of their own, vowing revenge against the Imperium. For centuries to come, the Sector is plagued by piracy as the descendants of those survivors continue their bloody crusade, led by the same handful of Traitor Astartes.**

Rogal noted, "It seems the Inquisition rarely solves the problems it was meant to solve." The obviousness of this statement cause the Emperor to hit Rogal, sending him flying across the room.  
**  
804.M31 : The Proxy War**

**A series of brutal murders among the priesthood of the shrine-world Nemetar draws the attention of the Inquisition. Acolytes uncover two rival cults among the local Ministorum. One, heavily represented among the record-keepers and the highest-ranking priests, is affiliated with the Fifteenth Legion. The second has spread like a disease among the lower orders and the hordes of pilgrims that come to Nemetar to pray, and bears marks of the Plague God's own Traitor Legion. Conflict between the cults escalate as the investigation continues, the Chaos Marines behind each heretical faction seeking to destroy the other even at the risk of exposure. In the end, though several temples have to be abandoned and destroyed due to contamination, the cults are destroyed and Nemetar declared sanctified once more.**

Magnus and Mortarion shared a wary glance with each other.  
**  
824.M31 : The Arena's Uprising**

**In the high spires of hive-world Mammon, the Imperial nobility entertains itself by watching gladiatorial fights between slaves and alien beasts. One gladiator is a prisoner from a feral world, officially claimed as a recruiting ground for the Space Marine Legions – which only increases the excitement of the nobles as they watch him carve other combatants to pieces. Unbeknownst to them, that feral-worlder was a shaman of his tribe, and the journey through the Warp to Mammon has exposed him to infernal forces. As he is made to participate in a particularly large battle, the shaman rouses the other gladiators in revolt against their captors. They slaughter the guards before spilling into the rest of the spires, where the violence and the symbolism of their deeds tear the Warp open and summon warriors of the World Eaters Legion, who fight alongside the gladiators to set the spires of Mammon ablaze. By the time Imperial forces arrive, the spires are ash, and both gladiators and World Eaters are gone – but the story spreads like wildfire, growing more wild and improbable with every telling, and soon the whole of Mammon is in rebellion against the nobility.**

Angron took another Ibuprofen.  
**  
857.M31 : The Fleshless Curse**

**On the forge-world of Ikxxi-Nine, where atmospheric conditions require even the lowliest tech-thrall to be fitted with heavy augmentations to be able to work, there is an outbreak of daemonic contagion within one of the augmetic facilities. Those afflicted see their cybernetics grow and mutate, and are driven to psychosis. Those who survive to reach the final stage of the affliction split apart in a shower of gore and metal, serving as a gateway through which an Iron Warrior can step through. Taking control of the infected, the sons of Perturabo launch an invasion of Ikxxi-Nine. Iron Hands forces are sent to deal with the situation, and after several months of brutal, gruelling fighting, the planet is secured, though each of the forge-cities afflicted with the technomantic curse is razed to the ground in the process.**

Perturabo and Ferrus looked at each other, both feeling sorry for the innocents and disgusted at what the future Iron Warriors would do.  
**  
862.M31 : Open Minds**

**In the Five Hundred Worlds, lodges among the middle and upper classes of Jigraltar's population become more and more popular, drawing hundreds and then thousands of members to their meetings. There, they discuss various philosophical subjects, as well as the arts and the history of both within the Imperium. A text discovered in the planet's millennia-old ruins spreads across the lodges, and within a few months the world is in the throes of a Slaaneshi uprising as all members are consumed by the heresy within the book, which was the journal of a Third Legion warrior during the Heresy. This memetic agent spreads fast, on vox-transmissions and whispered by sane-looking infectees. On Guilliman's orders, the entire Jigraltar system is quarantined, and the Avenging Son dispatches a full Chapter of his Legion to suppress the uprising before the Inquisition decides to burn the planet.**

**Amidst the madness and devastation, three Emperor's Children Legionaries are sighted. Interrogation of the cultists reveal that they call themselves the Marquis of Enlightenment. It is believed that one of the Marquis was the author of the blasphemous text that triggered the uprising. After five years of war, the Ultramarines declare Jigraltar free of the taint, though only two of the Marquis are confirmed dead, along with nearly half of the planet's population.**

Fulgrim held his head in his hands and Roboute sighed, knowing full well the dangers of Chaos. In such a situation these dire methods would be nessisary.  
**  
888.M31 : The Peril of Knowledge**

**More than a century after the Proclamation, the Ordo Malleus gather in great number on the moon of Jerya, collating their information about various uprisings that have occurred across the Imperium since the Black Crusade. Together, the Inquisitors come to the conclusion that each of the nine Traitor Legions has devised its own means to bypass the Cadian Gate and send small groups of warriors into the rest of the galaxy. As they debate the best course of action, kill-teams of the Alpha Legions launch a coordinated assault on the moon. Less than one Inquisitor in ten, and very little of the gathered intelligence, escapes the following slaughter.**

Alpharious and Omegon shared a conflicted look.  
**  
021.M32 : The Twisted Crusade**

**The Imperial force labelled "Crusade Dominicus" by the Administratum is sent to exterminate the xenos species known as the Gthrathalex under the command of Warmaster Ethreius Vex. Mere days after the fleet translates into the xenos' territory, it is cut off from reinforcements and resupply as the currents of the Warp shift and the path through which it came is blocked by Warp Storms. The Crusade Dominicus is declared lost, and ceremonies of mourning take place on a hundred worlds.**

**Ten years later, the Warp Storms dissipate. To the surprise of the Imperium, the forces of the Crusade return, leaving behind them the dead worlds of the Gthrathalex. Ethreius even still leads them, having triumphed over the xenos despite the lack of support. However, before the Imperium can celebrate, the Crusade forces launch a surprise attack on the Imperial Port of Crimson Rock. The space station is captured and becomes the headquarters of the renegade Crusade troops as they launch a self-titled "campaign of liberation" upon half a dozen worlds. Ethreius claims that the Imperium does not deserve the loyalty of its subjects, and builds his own kingdom from the territory his forces capture. The rethoric employed by the renegade Warmaster is very similar to that of the Proclamation, though no Heretic Astartes are sighted among the traitors' forces.**

**A retribution fleet is dispatched, accompanied by elements of the Seventh and Ninenteenth Legions. As the war between the rebels and the Imperium escalates, the truth slowly emerges : the Crusade Dominicus was approached by renegade elements during their isolation and, desperate for support against the atrocities of the Gthrathalex, Ethreius warily accepted it. Yet, when the Raven Guard kill-teams make it aboard Ethreius' capital ship, the Axiom of Loyalty, they find that the Warmaster is dead already – and has been so for years, judging by the decomposition of his body.**

Magnus looked interested, wondering what Chaotic power had tainted this crusade.  
**  
107.M32 : Forget the Past**

**Since the days of the Great Crusade, the world of Baryon Secundus has served as a place to keep records. Amidst the cool, dry crypts, untold billions of parchments are stored, containing everything from tales of the Long Night to the latest shipments of foodstuffs from nearby agri-worlds. That legacy ends when one of the record-keeping clans rise against the Imperium, proclaiming that the history they have managed for so long is naught but lies, created to serve the tyranny of Terra and the False Emperor. Taking the image of burning book as their emblem, these heretics begin to systematically destroy all records. Word Bearer warriors manifest amidst the pyres, and guide the rebels to new heights of depravity and fanaticism, until all of Baryon Secundus is ablaze, with the cultists embracing new, heretical knowledge. By the time the retribution forces of the Dark Angels arrive, there is nothing left to save of the priceless, age-old records of Baryon Secundus. The Inquisition is left to wonder what secrets the Seventeenth Legion sought to destroy.**

Lorgar looked enraged by this, as did Magnus. Russ looked like he wanted to comment, but decided against it.  
**  
150.M32 : A New Weapon**

**A STC Template is discovered containing tremendous advancements in laser technology. Despite the efforts of the Mechanicus to keep it a secret, knowledge of this discovery and its potential spread across the Imperium. Knowing that this could lead to a great improvement of the Imperium's common soldiers' might, cults beholden to several Traitor Legions make moves to either seize the template or destroy it. Manipulating factions within the Imperium, the cults cause a minor civil war to erupt above the forge-world Kantrael. In the confusion, strike teams of Chaos Marines make planetfall and attempt to reach the Template. Thanks to the efforts of the Skitarii guardians and several companies of Space Marines (comprised of elements of the Salamanders, Raven Guard and Blood Angels), these attempts fail, and the situation in orbit is soon resolved. Several hundreds cultists and their pawns are identified and executed by the Inquisition, and Kantrael soon becomes the first center of production of the new portable model of lasgun. Much more effective and cheaper to build, this weapon is decreed by the High Lords of Terra as the new standard issue for all Imperial Guard forces, replacing the Great Crusade-era autoguns, which used solid ammunition.**

Sanguinius was confused and said, "Didn't we start out with lasguns?" The Emperor nodded, "YES. THE STANDARD FIREARM OF THE IMPERIAL ARMY IS THE LASGUN. MUST BE A SMALLER DIFFERENCE."  
**  
200.M32 : The Ascension of the Faithful**

**After centuries of politicking and growing influence, the Ecclesiarchy makes a bid to make its leader, the Ecclesiarch, into a permanent member of the High Lords of Terra. In the months leading to the gathering where the decision will be officialized, Veneris II, the current Ecclesiarch, manages to survive an estimated seventy-six assassination attempts. Some of these are made by political rivals within the Imperium, but the vast majority are later traced back to heretical cults with ties to the dreaded Seventeenth Legion.**

**The survival of the Ecclesiarch can be largely attributed to the cadre of Custodians who, for reasons of their own, leave the Imperial Palace to serve as Veneris' bodyguards in the days before the formal announcement. Though the Custodians don't share their motives, Veneris doesn't shy from using their presence as proof that the God-Emperor Himself approves of his plans.**

**Once Veneris II takes his permanent seat among the High Lords, the Custodians depart, returning to their other duties. Within the year, Veneris is assassinated, killed in his own chambers within the Imperial Palace itself, with a Dark Eldar dagger buried in his chest and an expression of untold agony on his face. His successor (heavily investigated and found innocent of any part in the murder) makes no mention of the manner of Veneris' demise in his own ascension speech. Investigation by the Ordo Xenos points toward the renowned, Commoragh-born Dark Eldar killer known as the Blade of Ptesh. Who hired the xenos, however, remains a mystery – and, despite the best efforts of the Ordo Xenos, the Blade of Ptesh remains beyond the reach of Imperial retribution.**

The Emperor and Lorgar were both conflicted.  
**  
243.M32 : Forbidden Lore**

**During his hunt of a sect of daemon worshipers, the Ordo Malleus Inquisitor Damasko discovers one of the Proclamation's cult-ships. The ship landed on an asteroid in an abandoned system, and has been used as a base of operation for rebel and heretical activities throughout the Sub-Sector. After slaying its defenders, Damasko studies the forbidden texts contained within, learning much about the methods and philosophies of the Arch-Traitor's pawns. His treatise, Paths to Darkness, becomes a useful tool to members of the Inquisition, and Damasko is posthumeously recognized for his contribution to the great work of keeping the Imperium safe and free of heretical taint – a whole century after his summary execution by a Conclave of his peers, who thought him gone renegade. The Paths become mandatory reading for many Inquisitors' apprentices, though the Acolytes are watched carefully during the period of reading for the slightest sign of heretical sympathies.**

The Emperors anger at it taking 100 years for this vital contribution to be recognized caused his power to flare and everyone fled the room. A few hours later, after the Emperor had calmed down, the watching resumed.  
**  
327.M32 : The Apostasy War**

**The Wars of Faith, which were thought over after the unification of the Ecclesiarchy and the acknowledgement of the Imperial Creed by both the High Lords and the Primarchs, erupt again. After a century of growing tension following the rise of the Ecclesiarch to the High Council, factions within the Ecclesiarchy turn to violence, denouncing each others as heretics and blasphemers. Things come to a head when the current Ecclesiarch, Dominicus III, is murdered in the Ophelia system by the Blade of Ptesh, who manages to elude the Imperium's security and assassinate the Ecclesiarch for the second time. Once again, there is no direct evidence indicating the assassin's sponsor, though the following decades cast the Inquisition's suspicion in one particular direction.**

**During the Synod to decide Dominicus' successor, the Cardinals come to physical blows, and the fragile unity of the Imperial Creed is sundered. War erupts between the Cardinals' domains, as armies of Fratris Templars are pitched against one another. Billions die and worlds burn, and xenos kingdoms surge again as the Cardinals call upon the Imperial Guard Regiments of their homeworlds to wage war in their name. All the while, the Space Marine Legions remain firmly neutral, refusing to involve themselves lest the war escalate into a new Heresy and struggling to hold the line on the suddenly undermanned fronts. All of the Primarchs' efforts to broker peace fail in front of the Templars' fanaticism and the sheer hubris of the Cardinals (though both Guilliman and Sanguinius believe that there are other, more sinister hands at work).**

**In the end, the Grand Master of Assassins act, without the authorization of the equally divided High Lords. Nearly the entirety of the Synod is purged, along with thousands of lesser clerics, all of them condemned to death for their betrayal of the Emperor's laws and ideals. The power of the Ecclesiarchy is crippled, though when a new moderate Ecclesiarch is finally chosen once more (more than thirty years after the death of Dominicus III), his seat among the High Lords remain.**

Everyone once more prepared to run for there lives, but the Emperor only grumbled.  
**  
362.M32 : The Thousand Rebellions**

**In the aftermath of the Apostasy War, hundreds of world denounce the Imperial Creed, disgusted by the greed of the Ecclesiarchy's priests and the destruction wrought by their petty ambitions. Churches and cathedrals are burned and cast down in a wave of iconoclasm not seen since the Great Crusade itself. These worlds are easy prey to Horusian agitators, and within weeks the uprisings against the Ecclesiarchy become full-on rebellions against the Imperium. On many of these worlds, Sons of Horus are seen leading the rebellion, their armor free of the most perverse Chaos imagery to avoid disturbing the mortal dupes. Warriors from other Traitor Legions are also sighted, taking positions of influence within the revolutionary regimes – though most of the renegade Astartes refrain from overtly taking over, lest their deception be revealed.**

**The Imperium reacts quickly, and Astra Militarum and Legiones Astartes forces are sent to bring the rebellious worlds back into the fold. Slowly, over the course of several decades, most of the lost systems are reclaimed, though not a few are dragged into localized Warp storms when the rebels grow desperate enoug to turn to sorcery. Of particular note during that period is the Hekkarian Nexus, a coalition of no less than twenty-seven rebel systems bound by a common alliance. United under the leadership of the Hekkarian Council, a gathering of heretics and Traitor Astartes, the Nexus manage to resist the Imperium for over half a century. By the time the armies of the Emperor manage to breach its defenses, the Nexus has managed to build its own gene-craft facilities, transforming hundreds of young men from the twenty-seven worlds into Traitor Legionaries of the Sixteenth Legion's bloodline.**

**Ultimately, the Nexus is defeated, and each of its worlds subjected to Exterminatus, while the annals of the Imperium are expunged of any and all references to its existence. But, despite the best efforts of the Space Wolves and Raven Guard Legions, some of the Traitor Marines bred within these facilities survive and escape, joining piratical and mercenary forces.**

The Emperor grumbled more about how religion was bad.  
**  
544.M32 : The Beast Falls**

**The Primarch Sanguinius appears before the Imperial High Command of the Segmentum Tempestus and takes command of a vast fleet, which he leads to the long-abandoned Ullanor System. There, the forces of the Imperium find a new Ork Empire, built upon the grave of the one destroyed during the Great Crusade. After several months of brutal fighting, the greenskins are purged, with the Angel slaying their leader, the self-proclaimed Great Beast, in single combat. At his recommendation, the Inquisition performs Exterminatus upon Ullanor using cyclonic torpedoes, despite the protests of the Adeptus Mechanicus, who want to study the strange technology developed by the Orks on the planet. The shattered pieces of the world are scoured clean of all traces of life, and the accursed system's location is struck down from the data-banks of all warships involved in its destruction. When asked about the reasons for the destruction, the Angel only mentions that this is necessary to "advert Armageddon".**

The Tech Priest said, "I wonder if future Sanguinius means Armageddon as in the end of the world or the actual world." Rogal stirred to conciseness once more and asked, "Did I miss anything." Horus noted, "Sanguinius absolutely owned the Beast." Rogal looked confused, "How can one actually take possession of an Ork?" It was Vulkan who hit him and the Tech Priest said, "Lets take a short break." The Emperor agreed with him.


	27. Volcanic Heresy Introduction

hey there folks, its my birthday (april 8th). as such, I have a special story for you, my volcanic heresy story.

Since the volcanic heresy is my brainchild I don't see the need to go through the whole listing the author, saying I got permission and linking to the original. also, the emperors comment on the raven guard being shoehorned into the slannesh legion is what happened.

also, I ask you to please check out my other fics. the reason I can update on a schedule for this fic is because other people have done much of the work. my other fics are labors of love and I would like them to be as popular as this fic, if not more so. and if you have any criticisms, I ask that you phrase them in a constrictive manner, so I can improve. for example, two reviews have said I need an editor. but I don't think that applies for a fanfiction. so instead of snarking/insulting me and say I need an editor, please explain why and what you mean by an editor.

* * *

Vulkan picked this vid file with the same dread that accompanied the other potential arch traitors picking there own heresy's. Soon they assembled in the viewing room, save two members. Mortarion asked no one in particular, "Where are Angron and the tech priest?" Konrad responded, "Angron is blowing off steam in the combat arena and the tech priest got an astropathic message and ran off excited."

In the combat arena Angron had just finished dismembering the combat servitors when the tech priest rushed in repeatedly saying, "Lord Angron!" Angron growled and asked, "What is it tech priest?" The tech priest excitedly said, "A STC has just been rediscovered that I believe you might like." Angron looked angrily at him and the tech priest continued, "It's a chemical compound know as Ibprofin that is designed to reduce pain. I believe it might help reduce your pain without battle." Angron smiled a normal smile and said, "I would like to try that then." The tech priest noted, "I have already asked it to be sent to the Bucephelus." Soon a red light started flashing and the tech priest noted, "I guess its time for the next video."

The tech priest played the video as the imperial family settled in.

**the volcanic heresy**

**Pre-Heresy: the cracks begin to form**

**In the glorious 31st millennium the Emperor of Mankind launched his Imperium's Great Crusade to reclaim the galaxy for mankind. At the head of his forces were the mighty Space Marine Legions, 18 mighty armies of transhumans, each one the equal of the heroes of old, marched and were led by a demigod son of the Emperor himself. Behind them was the Imperial army, the numberless hordes of men and women dedicated to the ideals of the Emperor. The mechanical might of Mars, with the great god machines known as Titans striding in legions. And in the shadows were the Assassin Temples, who did the dirty work that heroes like the Emperor could not do, a thankless job that needed to be done. The worlds of humanity were recovered, either embracing there lost heritage or being forced into compliance. Even certain xenos were allied with the Imperium, be they absorbed like the squats or the ratlings, or be separate allies like the eldar who raised the Primarch Lorgar. The Light of the Astronomicon proclaimed to the galaxy that the Long Night was over, and a new golden age had come.**

Lorgar was surpised, "My counterpart was raised by the craftworlders?" The Emperor noted, "MORE LIKELY THE HARLIQUINS."

**The peak of the Great Crusade was undoubtedly the Ullanor compliance, where the Emperor himself broke the power of the greatest ork empire left in the galaxy. At the end of the campaign, with Ullanor turned into a trophy world by the victorious Imperium, the Emperor announced he would be leaving the Great Crusade in the hands of Horus, the first found and the now Warmaster of the Imperium. The Emperor took Magnus with him to help on the project, and made Perturabo the Praetorian of Terra. It was here that the cracks that would leave the Imperium, the Emperor and his hopes and dreams in ruins, began to form.**

**Sanguinius, the angel of Baal, and his legion the Blood Angels worshiped the Emperor as a god, despite the Emperors outright ban on worship of anything, having declared there are no gods (to those who knew the truth of the warp and the war in heaven know that what he left unsaid, that there are god like entity's but to worship them is foolish). on the world of Ecclesia, the blood angels had begun to openly worship the Emperor. Upon hearing of this, the Emperor ordered the Sons of Horus (the newly renamed legion of Horus) and his most trusted confidant Malcador the Sigilite to burn this world and humble the blood angels. It broke Horus's hearts to hurt his brother so, but he did it. This would set the blood angels on the path of chaos, first fighting the Nephilim and then going on the pilgrimage, thus becoming the first legion to fall to chaos.**

Sanguinius looked to his wings with slight despair and said, "Seems my counterpart takes your place as the Emperor worshipers Lorgar." Rogal noted, "It would appear so." Once again no response was given to him.

**Then the issue of psykers came to a head, many Primarchs distrusting all things of the warp and they called for the sanction of the Thousand Sons, the legion of Magnus. They believed that the sorcery of this psyker legion would re-ignite the age of strife. On the world of Nikea the Iron Warriors, gene sons of Perturabo, made a mighty colosseum and the Council of Nikea began. Mortarion, primarch of the Death Guard, began with his legitimate concerns about psykers. He was quickly drowned out by the others who distrusted psykers. Unlike Mortarion, they were merely savages whose hatred of "witches" is the result of there backwards upbringings. The worst of them was Leman Russ, primarch of the Space Wolves, whose hatred of psykers was hypocritical in nature. He called Magnus and his sons weilders of maleficarum, and the only evidence he presented was the evidence given to him by his rune priests, themselves psykers. The only thing Leman accomplished in the council was aiding Magnus's cause by managing to paint those against psykers as backwards hypocrites. Magnus calmly and expertly explained his proposed Librarius program, which not only addressed Mortarions concerns, but appeased everyone.**

**Everyone except Russ, that is. He howled threats, accusations of the Emperors mind being poisoned, and stormed off in a huff. It was soon after the Council of Nikea that the Thousand Sons were afflicted with the flesh change. This had always been a threat to them, but the being behind it, the chaos god Tzeench, had realized Magnus would not fall and decided to take his anger out on the legion. Magnus assembled a cabal of his most powerful psyker sons, and the leader of the cabal, a terran recruit known as Ahriman, propsed a desperate ritual. Magnus, devastated at the sight of so many of his sons becoming mewling mutants that were chaos spawn in all but name, agreed. Thus was preformed the Rubric of Ahriman, and 9/10ths of the Thousand Sons became nothing but dust in armor. The Rubric succeeded, but created the rubric marines, automotans made from the souls of those who couldn't become psykers. At the sight of this percived failure Magnus wept, and the Emperor himself went to Prospero, comforting Magnus and revealing to him the truth of the chaos gods. The Rubric was the best way to go, and while Magnus still felt guilty he came back to Terra.**

Magnus himself shed a few tears at the sight.

**What truly kickstarted the end of the new golden age, and the beginning of a dark age the likes of which the galaxy has never seen, was the meeting between the Sons of Horus and a civilization known as the Interex. During the peace negotions Warmaster Horus was stabbed with a Daemon Weapon and sent into a coma. The Mournival that was the second in command of Horus prepared to go to war with the Interex, and only the quick thinking of the Word Bearer Chaplain known as Erebus prevented a horrible slaughter.**

**Abbadon looked at Erebus with disbelief, "What are you saying?" Erebus nodded, "I know it is difficult to believe, but I speak the truth." Abbadon started to laugh mockingly, "You mean to say that the concept of disorder has lain our father low." Erebus merely nodded, "Call it what you like, Chaos, Kaos, The Ruinous Powers, Reality Tumors, The Primordial Annihilator, the Dark Gods, it all means the same thing. They are the debris of the War in Heaven, powered by the emotions of sentient life and made hostile to everything that is good. My legion has known of it for some time, but by the decree of the Emperor himself we have kept it hidden." Erebus patted his copy of the Book of Lorgar.**

The Emperor nodded and said, "THAT IS WHAT THEY ARE. THIS CANNOT POSSIBLY BE OVEREMPHISASED."

**Abbadon knew the Word Bearers had some strange beliefs, worshiping the gods of the eldar and such. But he also knew that the Word Bearers were completely loyal to the Imperium, unlike the eldar who were divided, with the dark eldar and the militaristic craftworlds and those enigmatic Ynnari. Horus Aximand, little Horus, spoke up, "It doesn't matter what afflicts our father. What matters is, can you save him?" Erebus nodded saying, "Yes I can, but it won't be easy. And I will need your help."**

**Horus was healed by an ancient ritual, nicknamed the ritual of chud by Lorgar, and set off to terra to interrogate his father as to why he kept such important information from him. Magnus revealed what the Emperor had told him after the disastrous Rubric. The Emperors plan was to starve the chaos gods and then free humanity from the Warp via the Webway. Without the worship and constant interaction with the Warp the chaos gods would become so weak that the Astronomicons power would cleanse the warp of the reality tumors once and for all.**

The Emperor started chuckling and Horus asked, "What's so funny?" The tech priest answered, "The ritual of chud is a creation of a popular horror writer of the 21st century."

**then, the unthinkable happened, Vulkan had turned traitor.**

**The Heresy: catastrophes abound**

**Those who defend the Imperium, such as the inquisitors, the space marines and the eldar farseers, know the myriad dangers besieging the Imperium. In fact, many times the mere knowledge of the enemy is corruptive. To save them from this tainted knowledge, they typically ponder the what ifs. What if history happened a different way. As such, they also gain an insight into enemy's. For example, among the higher ups of the inquisition believe that Horus was the original target for the chosen of chaos. It makes perfect sense, after all Horus is a great general and a cunning ally. His position as the Warmaster made him perfectly positioned to cause a schism. It was only the quick thinking of Erebus and the strength of the Mournival that saved him. Of the primarchs it seems Vulkan is the least likely of all the primarchs to be the arch traitor. With the information provided by the Ordo Universium, the inquisitor order dedicated to the study of alternate universes and timelines, it becomes less and less believable that Vulkan, the kindest of all primarchs, would cause the heresy.**

**"Oh Vulkan, the kindest amongst us, you who always took care of the common people. How like the chaos gods to turn your kindness into the fall of our father dream."**

**attributed to Horus**

**The truth of Vulkan's fall comes from a secret in plain sight, yet known only to the primarchs, to Malcador, and to the Emperor himself. There weren't 18 legions of space marines, there were 20. The second and eleventh legions, the lost and the forgotten. Both commited crimes so horrible that the Space Wolves, the Emperors Executioners, purged them all. There names, there deeds, everything about them was gone. Only two empty plinths in the Investitory and two gaps in the legions enumeration were left behind. Things that could be attributed to human error.**

**But there were two legions. There crimes were so horrible that even the traitor primarchs, who have spat upon everything they swore upon, do not speak of these two. Even after the heresy, when the traitor legions were condemned with the Edict of Obliteration, the same edict upon the lost legions, there was still knowledge of the traitors. The common people knew of the so called nine sons of darkness who fought the Emperors nine sons, and the stars were watched fearfully. The Imperial Creed preach that only the God Emperor protected humanity from the hostile Xenos and from the bands of Daemons that raided worlds, taking children to make more of there own. But not even the highest of the inquisition knows or even thinks about the second and eleventh legions.**

**Vulkan felt extremely guilty about what happened to his brothers despite there horrible crimes. In addition, the constant forced compliances of worlds who only sought to keep there ways and independence started to wear him down. When Horus was saved the chaos gods turned to Vulkan. On a world fallen to chaos undivided they visited Vulkan and showed him visions of what had passed, and what was to come.**

**Vulkan looked at the four beings skeptically. He then asked them, "What proof do you have that the Emperor is evil. Yes, he condemned two of my brothers to death, but there crimes were so horrible that only there complete annihilation could absolve them. And yes, he has ordered compliance on many worlds, but his way is the best. I have seen the horrors of the Age of Strife and I know he is right. He is a good man, willing to do what is necessary, even if it is distasteful."**

**The vision showed Terra, and the pink hemaproditic figure purred in her seductive voice, "Do you know of the Battle of Mount Ararat?" Vulkan nodded, "Yes, it was the final battle of the Unification Wars, where the Thunder Warriors heroically sacrificed themselves to achive the Emperors goals." The fat green one gurgled out one word, "No." Vulkan was confused and it continued, "The Thunder Warriors were flawed creations, doomed to madness and sickness. Many times there bodies were opened after death to find nothing but a mass of tumors." The red one who seemed eternally angry said, "The Battle of Mount Ararat wasn't a battle, it was a slaughter!"**

**Vulkan saw the last of the Thunder Warriors, and saw the forces who would cull the ones who fought to unite Terra. Several hundred Custodes, the brave gene-enhanced men and women who were the compainions of the Emperor, and several thousand Proto-Astartes, bearing the gene seed of every legion. It was truly a massacre , the Thunder Warriors never stood a chance. Vulkan wanted to close his eyes, to turn away and cover his ears, but he couldn't.**

The entire family was shocked at this, and the Emperor mumbled, "IT WOULD SEEM MY CUSTODIANS IN THIS REALITY ARE MALE AND FEMALE." The entire room was ablaze with rage, and Magnus yelled, "That's what you got from that?!"

**Then the blue one said, "Now we shall show you what will happen should nothing be done." Suddenly the scene became one of horror, as Vulkan was shown the 41st milienium. He saw a grim and dark future, where there was only war. He saw as ignorance replaced knowledge and hate became a virtue. He saw thousands of people die in a petty war for a few feet of useless ground on a planet no one wanted. He saw entire worlds destroyed for the actions of one or a few individuals. He saw as innovation became considered heresy, and superstition and rote replaced knowledge. He saw wars on terra break out over places in line, suppressed by the Custodes or by cruel peace keepers. He saw a bureaucracy so vast and inefficant that entire planets could be lost due to a filing error, and armies or supplies that were sent to worlds that had long ago fallen. He saw the people of Terra fear the space marines, and the imperium worship nine of his brothers as gods, while the other 9, including himself, were nowhere to be found. He saw the Imperial Palace as a hunched decayed thing, its beauty still there but twisted into a thing of war. He saw as every day one thousand psykers, men women and children, were sacrificed to his father. But worst of all was that his father was worshiped as a god, and that worship was the only thing truly keeping the Imperium together.**

**He started to weep at what he saw, and turned to the four. "What can I do to prevent this?" he asked. And thus Vulkan fell.**

Horus was sad and willingly accepted a hug from Vulkan, despite the pain.

**Vulkan and his legion, alongside the iron hands and the raven guard, declared themselves free of the Emperor and his cruelty. Horus was too far from the Isstvan system to aid the attack, which spared his legion, but he used his authority as the Warmaster to call every available legion to bring the rebels to heel.**

**After the message came more horrible news, the Space Wolves had destroyed Prospero. The survivors arrived at the Imperial palace, telling of how Leman Russ declared Prospero and the Thousand Sons witches, defying the Emperor ban against sorcery by using the Rubric, unaware or uncaring that the Emperor forgave Magnus and his legion for its usage. They attacked and burned so much, then the Space Wolves started to turn into creatures that were best described as werewolves. Russ had cried to the skies for his sons salvation, and he was answered. They became diseased things, and had caused Prospero to rot from the inside out. It is said that when Magnus heard this news he didn't cry, having shed all his tears in the aftermath of the Rubric. Instead he swore an oath of moment, swearing that he would have his vengeance upon Leman Russ. It wouldn't matter if it took 10,000 years or longer, but Russ and his dogs would pay for there crimes.**

Russ looked physically sick at what his legion would become.

**Then came Perturabo and his Iron Warriors, revealing that his home world Olympia had been attacked by the Gedehams, a xenos species believed anhilated by Rogal Dorn and his legion. The fleets the xenos used were comprised not only of there horrible hive ships but also of Imperial fist ships. Perturabo believed that the Gedehams claims that these ships were gifted to them by Rogal to be nothing more than the lies of hostile xenos attempting to spread dissent. But the revelation of the betrayals of both Vulkan and Russ changed his tune. Horus realized that the loyalist legions were being led into a trap, but by then it was too late.**

**Seven legions assembled at Isstvan, first to arrive being the Emperors Children led by there primarch Fulgrim, having come in full force. Then came the Death Guard led by Mortarion, again having the full legion with him. Then came the Dark Angels, led by Lion El'Johnson, fresh from there campaign in the ghoul stars. Marius Gage came next, leading a chapter of Ultramarines, saying that roboute was currently attacking a world that needed destroying, but sent what help he could. Then came the Alpha legion, led by Alpharius; only a 4th of the legion came, and Alpharius revealed the rest were dealing with something that couldn't be delayed, but he left his forces in the hands of a commander he trusted above all others and he came with what forces he could spare. Then came the Blood Angels, led by Sanguinius. Where they were once the piniacle of space marines and Sanguinius had become one of the least popular primarchs (possibly the least popular) his forces were welcomed. Lastly came the White Scars, led by Jagatai Khan. His full legion had come from the Chondax system.**

**The first wave was comprised of the Emperors Children (Fulgrim was enraged by Ferrus's betrayal), the Death Guard and the Alpha Legion. The second wave was to be comprised of the others. Upon Isstvan 5 the sight of the horrible mockeries there brothers and there legions made the primarchs sick.**

**The Salamanders were horrible visions of devils, any kindness within them replace with pityless hate. The sigils of the ruinous powers bedecked there armor, and the fire that once cleansed the worlds of filth were now the fires of hell.**

**There were few Iron Hands, but they more than made up for there lack of astartes with what accompanied them. The sons of Ferrus Manus were accompanied by AI's and gene forged things, each of the Iron Hands commanded an army of the very things the Great Crusade had set out to destroy.**

**The Raven Guard were the worst. Much like the Iron Hands there were few true astartes, but instead of the creatures of the Long Night there were horrible mutants that were once astartes. The Raven Guard had unnatural hordes of Chaos Spawn at the command of the Nobles, those astartes who mastered the twin gifts of Slannesh: pleasure and pain.**

The Emperor looked confused and said, "THAT SEEMS RATHER CONTRIVED." Corax was confused and asked, "What do you mean father?" The Emperor said, "IT SEEMS LIKE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER MAKING THIS REALIZED HE HADNT MADE A SLANNESH LEGION AND SHOEHORNED THE RAVEN GUARD INTO THIS ROLE." Corax was even more confused by didn't comment.  
**  
The three loyalist legions were in a tight spot, and when they believed reinforcments had come they were betrayed.**

**Omegon ran from the flailing tendrils of what had once been astartes, but the sight of his nephews devolved into these things wasn't what made him sick. No, it was the fact that they moaned in pleasure and pain, that those two opposite sensations mixed in these twisted things. If Alpharius was here it would be so much easier. Hell, he'd have the whole legion backing him up. But he had said something about Cabal, and that was that. The Cabal was a threat so big, well there goal was humanity's utter destruction. Even three traitor legions paled in comparison, but Horus's order was clear. Omegon often pretended to be his twin, and he took as many legionaries as could be spared.**

**Omegon found safety behind a rock, and his anger was riled by the sight of the Ultramarines just standing there.**

**"This is Alpharius of the Alpha Legion! I command you, open fire on the Raven Guard!"**

**The Ultramarines did nothing, Omegon got even angrier.**

**"Help us you damn pompous cowardly smurfs! I..."**

**The rest of the angry rant died in his mouth as the Ultramarines did open fire, but not on the Raven Guard, but on his own sons.**

**The drop site massacre broke three legions, and Fulgrim was beheaded by Ferrus, using the very weapon Fulgrim forged for him. Mortarion and Alpharius escaped alongside there legions and the Emperor's Children, led by Lucius the eternal, whose bravery and cool head prevented the legion from splintering after Fulgrim's death. The blow to the Imperium was hard, with the legions loyal to the throne splitting up. Alpharius and the Alpha legion meet up with Konrad and the Night Lords, and they begin a war against Vulkan and his forces. There were many human worlds who were loyal to Vulkan, remembering the kindness of him and his legion. However, the newfound cruelty of Vulkan and his legion made many reconsider. Meanwhile the Death Guard and the White Scars engaged in a chase across the galaxy. As for the Emperor's Children, there chief apothecary Fabius Bile had been corrupted by chaos during the laer campaign and led half of the legion into chaos with him. For the duration of the heresy, the Emperors children were engaged in there own civil war, the heresy in miniature.**

Fulgrim was speechless at how badly his legion was hit by the heresy in this universe.

**Soon after the drop site massacre was the second most horrible event of the entire heresy, with only the death of the Emperor surpassing it. Rogal Dorn and his Imperial Fists attacked the Meretara Cluster, a might set of Iron Warrior established worlds, who willing accepted the Imperiums rule after being freed from the Black Judges by Perturabo and his sons. This in itself wasn't particularly noteworthy, the traitorous Imperial Fists preferring and still prefer to attack the Iron Warriors. What was special was the hand guiding Rogal. He had been consumed by jealousy of Perturabo and his sons for getting what he believed should have been his honor, the priviliage of fortifying Terra. Before the drop site massacre he was approached by the Spectre King Kor Phareon, who promised a way to ruin Perturabo's greatest accomplishment. Thus Rogal and his legion attacked the cluster in the form of a ritual, and at the end the ritual activated. The force of the magic blast shattered the wards the Emperor had set up around the Webway, allowing the daemon hordes to pour in. Thus started the War in the Webway, and the death of the Emperors greatest dream. This and the heresy did ruin Perturabo's greatest accomplishment, as he was forced to destroy the beauty of the Imperial palace to make sure it endured. This kept the Emperor, his Custodes, the Sisters of Silence, Magnus, the rubric marines, and the Harlequins from aiding the loyalists, too busy making sure that the hordes of Daemons didn't engulf Holy Terra.**

Rogal noted, "It would seem my counterpart is very petty." No one responded

**On Mars the situation was no better. The Fabracator General Kelbor Hal remained loyal, his friendship with Horus ensuring that, but sadly Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl did not. Cawl was a tech priest who always bordered on the heretckical, his devotion to innovation skirting the Emperor's decrees. His friendship with roboute was what sealed the deal. He declared the Emperor a false Omnissiah and created the Dark Mechanicum, trapping the loyalist tech priests on Olympus Mons. One of the Triarch and an army of Perturabo's sons were sent to liberate Mars, and while the public belives they succeeded those who know of the Iron Lie realize that myriad technological hells lurk beneath Mars.**

Robute was sad at the betrayal of his friend Cawl, and stayed silent.

**Meanwhile the Craftworlds were about to rush to the aid of there human allies, only for a Schism to strike them as well. The Ynnari, worshipers of the theoretical whispering god Ynnead, led half of the Craftworlds against the Imperium. The reasons for the traitors varied, maybe they longed for the days of the Eldar Empire, or maybe they still thought of humans as like the ancient Mon-Keigh who canibalized entire races. Whatever the reason they declared themselves a New Eldar Empire, dedicated to destroying the humans and those foolish kindred who allied them with the savages. The loyal Craftworlds, led by Eldrad Ulthan, became the Ulthwe alliance. For the entire heresy they were tied up in a war throughout the entire eldar race, with the dark eldar pillaging and attacking both sides.**

**Ynnead, the lords of order, godly morality, and the end prophesy**

**The god Ynnead is not a eldar god, not truly. In fact, Ynnead isn't even a god yet. The prophesy of the now accursed Farseer Kysaduras the Anchorite once gave the eldar hope. Now they curse this damn being, knowing that Ynnead is merely a repeat of the Slannesh incident waiting to happen. Indeed, Ynnead is a theoretical concept (as much as anything involving the Warp can be called theoretical) known as a lord of order.**

**the lords of order, given the name, might sound like enemy's of the gods of chaos. But they are just as big a threat, as befits the origin of what can be called warp gods. Gods of the eldar and other such gods are artificial gods, warp powers born of belief and the science of the mythical Old Ones. Such gods are made of stories and the power of prayer. Warp gods however, are born of emotions and the debris of the War in Heaven, they cannot be benevolent. Even if the galaxy found peace the gods of the warp would still not embody any of there positive traits, the damage left by the war in heaven would still taint them.**

The Emperor nodded and said, "THAT IS ALSO A FACT."

**In fact, any and all attempts to create a god are doomed to make a warp god. The order of the warp the Old Ones used were broken in the War in Heaven. And more disturbing is the prophesy about the so called lords of order found by Argel Tal of the Word Bearers during the defense of black libarary in the Scouring.**

Lorgar said, "I wonder who attacks the black library."

**translated from the old ones language, using eldar runes as a baseline into gothic, it reads as follows:**

**_When the arch priest is saved from the hells ruled by the spectre king, the end times shall begin. _**

_**so shall be born the lords of order. First shall be the lord of ambition, the Greater Good, born of the ideals of a naïve race, broken from without and betrayed from within. **_  
**  
****_Second shall come the lord of unity, the Consumer. born of a race that eats like locusts and drawn by the light of order. There primitive mind of one shall be ascended by a fallen angel and a mad god of the material._**

**_Third shall come the whispering god Ynnead, the lord of glory past. It shall be born of fools attempting a route they already tread. Mad men will walk down the path of atrocity, blindly believing in there own arrogance._**

**_And lastly shall come the Star Father, the true chaos god of order. The first fallen shall lead the angels of hell into humanity's cradle, and kill the last hope humanity has left._**

**_And thus, when order and chaos unite as one, the galaxy will burn, as the dragon of chaos is impossibly resuructed and demigods die. _**

**This prophecy is only known to the highest of the high, only the legion masters, the high lords, the custodes, the primarchs and the emperor himself. This prophecy would make the imperium lose the things that truly keeps it going. Faith and Hope.**

**Indeed, if Vulkan and his legions had managed to use this momentum they would have easily toppled the Imperium. But as is always the case, Chaos is it's own worst enemy. Attempting to direct the chaos legions was like attempting to herd drunk and stupid cats. Only the Iron Hands truly stayed with Vulkan throughout the heresy, and even then it was because there corruption was born more in the twisted abominable intelegences and sciences of the Long Night instead of in the Ruinous Powers. Indeed Vulkan only trusted the White Scars, which is why they were sent after the Death Guard. All Vulkan could get them to do was promise to aid him when he reached the solar system.**

The tech priest started chuckleing and repeated, "drunk and stupid cats."

**Thus this state of affairs continued for nine years. The Salamanders, the Iron Hands and the horrible hordes of the lost and the damned led by Kor Phareon made there way to the solar system while the other legions did there own thing. The Space Wolves rampaged indiscriminately, while the Imperial Fists attacked the worlds of the Iron Warriors. The Blood Angels converted worlds to the worship of the gods and slaughtered all who stayed loyal to the throne. The Raven Guards turned entire worlds into horrible brothel-abattoir's, and the Dark Angels gave into Khornes influence completely after the destruction of Caliban. The White Scars hunted the Death Guard across the galaxy, denying the loyalists the strength of Mortarions sons.**

Lion said to himself, "I wonder how my counterpart falls to Khrone."

**The only traitor legion with a different situation were the Ultramarines, some of there chapters either aided Vulkan's march or committed atrocities against loyal worlds. But the majority followed there primarch, as is the way with space legions. During the drop site massacre Robute led a fourth of his legion on an attack on Monarchia. This world was prized by the Word Bearers, for it is the site where the worship of the eldar pantheon was allowed by the Emperor. Monarchia was burned by the Ultramarines and the famous Kranon the restless had his eyelids removed, alongside the pieces of his brain required for sleep.**

Memories of Monarchia's burning echoed through both Lorgar and Robutes minds.

**This outraged Lorgar, and he led his legion alongside Angron and his legion (having come back from anhilating an orkish empire) to make Ultramar burn. However, Robute was one step ahead of them, as chaos cultists on each of the 500 worlds sacrificed themselves, and while some loyalist Ultramarines aided the loyalist legions, they were most killed in these sacrifices. Thus was born the Ruinstorm, and the Shadow Crusade began.**

**Then eventually Vulkan and his fleets arrived at the gatways to Sol, and the traitor legions assembled. The reported death of Alpharius at Eskrador by Robute disheartened loyalsts, even if it was revealed to be an Alpha legion ploy. Much of the Ultramarines might came with Robute, and the traitor legions assembled.**

**On Terra proper the traitor legions once again proved chaos was its own worst enemy. The Raven Guard attacked the populace of Terra while the Space Wolves, Dark Angels and Imperial fists attacked the Imperial palace heedless of strategies. They were consumed by hatred, and the siege continued for months.**

**Eventually word reached the commanders of both sides that the Word Bearers and World Eaters had escaped the Ruinstorm, and alongside the Night Lords they rushed for Terra. Indeed, they soon arrived and Lorgar engaged Robute and killed him. Meanwhile Angron banished Corvis Corax, causing the Raven Guard to collapse to the ground writhing in pain and pleasure, with many nobles becoming spawn.**

**It was then that Vulkan challenged the Emperor personally, lowering the shields on the Flamewrought. The Emperor, Horus, several Custodes and the Mournival all teleported to the Gloriana class battleship, and were separated. There Horus found Sanguinius and was betrayed by him, and the Mournival then banishjed Sanguinius. Vulkan and the Emperor dueled, and it was only the death of a mortal soldier by Vulkan that caused the Emperor to realize his son was beyond saving. Unleashing his full power, the Emperor anhilated Vulkan, and was wounded fatally by Vulkan in turn. Even the Perpetual nature of Vulkan couldn't save him from the power of the Master of Mankind. The custodes and the Mournival carried the Emperor to the golden throne, where Malcador had sacrificed himself. And thus ended the heresy.**

**Post heresy: the long war begins**

**With the death or betrayal of every primarch considered fit to rule the Imperium, the job fell to Lorgar and the Mournival. Thus after the creation of the high lords of terra the scouring began, as worlds that fell to chaos were retaken. The forces of chaos fled to the galactic hells that are warp storms. The traitor legions and the dark mechanicum fled to all these places where only the whims of the dark gods is law. The majority of the traitor legions fled to the Eye of Terror, while the Ultramarines and those of Cawl's followers went to the Ruinstorm that was once the 500 worlds of Ultramar. Kor Phareon and his unholy flock fled to the Screaming Vortex, while the corrupted Eldar fled to the one warp storm that did not offend there senses; the Maelstrom. The Maelstrom was not the ruins of there once grand empires like the Eye of Terror and the Screaming Vortex, nor was it the crude human infested canker that is the Ruinstorm.**

**The Iron Warriors made mighty rings of defenses around these four hells known as the Iron Cages, and then the Imperium began to divide its power. The Imperial Army was divided into the Imperial Guard and the Imperial Navy. However, Lorgar immediately overruled the proposed breaking of the legions, saying that it would turn the mighty walls of humanity defenders into a collection of rotting picket fenses easily destroyed by those seeking humanity's end. Lorgar belived (correctly) that the traitors survived inside the warp storms, having seen firsthand the horrors of the Ruinstorm, but he knew that the rest of the Imperium believed the traitors dead. Instead he cited the xenos armies, those known and who could arise.**

**in the eye of terror and other warp storms, the chaos corrupted forces carved out empires. The legions rarely stayed united, but the daemon primarchs and there followers made there homes upon daemon worlds, where the great game of chaos is played.**

**the dark angels rule over the world of Mordred, where armies of serfs and knights fight in a twisted mockery of chivilalry, the legion of khorne retaining there minds unlike so many of his beserk worshipers. Lion El'Johnson sits upon a throne made of skulls, brooding upon the wound Luther inflicted on him. Normally this obvious wound would nessisitate the contasnt deflection of usurpers, but none are foolish enough to challenge the lion, even though he is weakened.**

Lion, despite himself, was impressed by his counterpart.

**The White Scars rule over the world of Eindoe, an apocalptic wasteland where the horsemen of chaos ride across the four quarters. The fate of Jagathai Khan is unkown, but the four true horsemen rule in his place, one for each of the four chaos gods. This is the center of there twisted empire, with many different worlds ruled by different Khans.**

Jagathai was worried, and mentally wondered where his counterpart had gone.

**the space wolves rule over Asgard, a plague world that invokes the ancient legends of Valhalla. here space wolves and mortals fight and drink endlessly, with twisted valkires born from human and eldar women choosing those worthy of ascention. and upon a throne of rotted ash sits Leman Russ, sleeping until the Wolftime. each of the great company's rule a different daemon world in the eye.**

Russ was offended and sickened by this vision of himself and his legion.

**the Imperial Fists reside upon the world known as Hangai, a place of buzzing and evershifting hives, always making sigils for ritual magic. Here rules Rogal Dorn, now identical to the Gedehams in form, a horrible wasp centaur thing. His only goal is to see the works of his brother Perturabo destroyed, he seeks to shatter the Iron Cages and defile all his fortresses, with something particularly nasty planned for the imperial palace. From the hives of Hangai pour the Imperial Fists, breaking themselves upon the Iron Cage that traps them.**

**The Blood Angels, the first fallen, the priests of chaos, rule over worlds that are truly hells. Every place where the souls of bad people were sent has become a daemon world in the warp storms, ruled by the fallen angels. They preach to flocks of adoring cultists, and feed upon the blood of mortals, innocent and guilty alike. And upon the world of Helvete, the first of the crone worlds, is Sanguinius. In a place inspired by the hell of the writer of old earth known as Dante, the angel of Baal alternatively broods upon his lost wings and meditates on the will of the dark gods.**

**the world of the Iron Hands is not named by the Iron Hands, considering it just a world, one that there lord Ferrus Manus resides on, but just another number. The imperium calls it Unicron, as it was refered to by Lorgar as such when he first heard of it. on this world the Iron Hands work eternally, recreating the horrors of the Age of Strife. It is unkown what they plan to do with these unnatural monsters, but it can only be bad for the imperium. in addition, the Iron Hands have a close friendship/rivalry with the black legion, led by Fabius Bile and composed of renegades of all legions and many other xenos, as well as Biles twisted new humanity.**

The emperor chuckled again, and the tech priest explained, "Unicron is the god of chaos in the Transformers universe, a popular fictional universe from the 21st mellinium. I actually based my own voice box on one of the vilians of the universe."

**The Ultramarines make there home in the Ruinstorm, the warp storm surrounding the 500 worlds of Ultramar. 500 daemon worlds reside in this place, ruled by the warbands called chapters. On the world of Macragge rests the corpse of Robute Guilliman, kept in stasis on the verge of death from the wounds inflicted by Lorgar. In the Ruinstorm also resides the arch-heretek Cawl, who made the horrible primus marines after 10,000 years, and they have plagued the imperium ever since the 32nd millennium. time is meaningless in a warp storm, for Cawl it took 10,000 years but for the rest of the universe it took him mere centuries before his twisted "improvments" on the emperors work was unleashed.**

Robute was silently fuming that the primus marines were twisted to chaos.

**The arch traitor's legion, the Salamanders, rule a world near identical to there home Nocturne. this world, called Volcanis, is a world of raging volcanos and hammering forges. The Salamanders still love there primarch, screaming "Vulkan lives!" as there warcry. they launch black crusades seeking the artifacts of Vulkan. It is beleved by both them and by the Imperium that if the nine artifacts of Vulkan are reunited on Volcanis and a ritual preformed by the forgefather then Vulkan will return, and both parties seek the artifacts to prevent or ensure that Vulkan indeed lives.**

Fulgrim asked Vulkan, "Isnt that what your legion was doing in the 41st milinium?" Vulkan mutely nodded.

**And the Raven Guard, a legion comprised of spawn and nobles, reside on a world known as Nevermore, from the last words of Corvis Corax before ascending as a spawn prince. here on this world the spawn writhe in estacy and nobles inflict atrocity's untold. and flying above it all is Corax, now a chaos spawn daemon prince the size of Texas, eternally in the twisted shape of a raven.**

**it is the end of the 41st millennium, and it seems that dusk is upon humanity. The orks gather in hordes unseen since the war of the beast which cost Mortarion his life. The Tau attack the Iron Cages unaware of the hell they will unleash. The Tyranids attack the galaxy, drawn by the light of the Astronomicon. The Dark Eldar continue to wage there ceaseless war on realspace. Worse still is the fact that entire worlds are found lifeless, and the seer council of the Ulthwe alliance fearfully warn there allies in the Imperium of the Necrons.**

**but the greatest threat to mankind is undoubtedly chaos, and now the traitor legions seem to have reunited. Reports say that the 13th black crusade has found the last of the artifacts of vulkan, which even now makes its way to Volcanis. In the Ruinstorm the Ynnari and Cawl work together to resuruct Robute.**

**But hope also comes to mankind, as in the Hadex Anomaly there are rumors of a mighty champion of man, trapped there by the spectre king. even now he draws ever closer to freedom from the hell he is trapped in. It is the endtimes, and the galaxy will burn.**

the video ended, and the family was silent.


	28. prince of the eye part 16

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-16#post-61907857

s/13366753/16/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest readied the next video while dorn went to the medical bay, to ensure no brain damage had occurred.

**Maeleum Datum : 579.M32**

**On the daemon world of Maeleum, Horus Lupercal contemplated the progress of the Long War. Since the Proclamation, the Warmaster of Chaos had kept a close eye on the situation outside the Eye of Terror. At his command, the Cabalites had created an extension of the infernal clocks through which the Theft of Time had been performed and the temporal flux of the Horusian territories stabilized. Within his throneroom, they had built a vast device that could be used to peer at almost any location within the wider galaxy, its complex mechanisms answering to the will of the Warmaster alone. Through it, Horus had watched the growth of the cults and rebellions within the Imperium – both those who ultimately served him, and those seeded by his brothers.**

The tech priest looked awed by the device and murmured, "The all seeing eye."  
**  
He watched the waxing and waning of rebellion and Chaos throughout the galaxy, and, with an eye sharpened by his trials during the Heresy, acted where and when it would benefit his ultimate ends the most. Most of the Cabalites were permanently stationed on Maeleum, with only a few left to provide their expertise to the Horusian warlords. It was they who acted as Horus' hand, dispatching visions and dreams to sensitive souls on Imperial worlds that the Warmaster judged to be in the correct configuration for disruption. Horus could do easily do it himself, of course, but his overwhelming power often caused all but the strongest minds to simply shatter at the contact.**

This worried Horus, wondering how fundamentally different his corrupted future self really was.  
**  
At least, that was the reason he had given to the Cabalites, and none had questioned it.**

This just made Horus even more worried.  
**  
As the effects of the Proclamation rippled throughout the Imperium, so too had the situation within the Eye of Terror been affected. The rituals of Magnus had spread across the Legions, sometimes exchanged or given as gifts, sometimes stolen or bastardized. Some Legions had proven more apt at making use of them than others – though even the World Eaters had managed to inspire a few rebellions bloody enough for their priests of Khorne to open the way for them.**

**This was not to say that there was peace within the Eye, with all ambitions turned outward and the grudges and hatred that divided the Traitor Legions forgotten. Far from it. Their prison was aflame with a thousand conflicts waged by forces for whom the Long War held no appeal. Warbands that had broken free of their Legions, renegade forces of the Imperial Army, daemonic hosts, hordes of mutants and cultists raised from twisted daemon worlds by Chaos Lords seeking the favor of the Ruinous Powers – they all fought one another, and launched raids upon the territories of the Legions when they got too bold.**

The Emperor sighed, "SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE."  
**  
Even now, Abaddon was leading a sizeable portion of Horus' forces to put down a daemonic incursion that had reached one of the few worlds under the Warmaster's control that could produce foodstuffs with any reliability. The last report from the front had the First Captain battling the Neverborn amidst the jungles of Leparthes, in the shadow of the reptilian behemoths whose meat fed a not inconsiderable portion of Horus' dominion in the Eye.**

Roboute looked slightly smug.  
**  
Though he had entrusted much of the management of his territory in the Eye to his lieutenants in order to focus on the Long War, Horus still kept track of the various powers of the Eye. It would be the height of foolishness not to do so, for he knew that, even after the Legion Wars had been put on hold by his defeat of the Crimson Accords and Magnus' surrender, there were many who still eyed his throne and sought the glory of toppling him. For a start, he didn't believe for a moment that Magnus and his sons had forgotten who was ultimately responsible for Prospero's destruction.**

Once again Magnus and Russ shared a glare.  
**  
After the end of the Crimson Accords and Ahriman's betrayal, the Thousand Sons had been attacked several times by forces that had thought them to be easy pickings. Those who had made it through the storms surrounding the handful of daemon worlds claimed by the Fifteenth Legion had been destroyed, their fates so inventively cruel that even the most crazed of raiders now sailed well clear of the sons of Magnus' borders. With the Cabalites now valued members of the Horusian dominion, there remained very few Thousand Sons beyond the territory of the Fifteenth Legion. Almost all sons of the Cyclops were focused on either pursuing their own arcane research or taking part in the Long War, using their psychic abilities and sorcerous knowledge to great effect.**

**With the distant guidance of the Fifteenth Legion, unbound psykers had managed to escape the harvests of the Black Ships. Individual psykers had fled from the Imperium hunters, and in some cases, they had even banded together to destroy small parties of Sisters of Silence – something which always earned that particular group of renegades the favor of the Thousand Sons, who well remembered the part the Sisterhood had taken in the Burning of Prospero. Following the instructions of the Sorcerers, these psykers eventually found their way to one of a handful of enclaves that their kindred had built. Hidden from the Imperium's sight on desolate worlds made inhabitable only through the constant use of their psychic abilities, these colonies hosted thousands of unbound psykers, who learned to use their powers and had built functioning societies.**

**Several circles of Thousand Sons had dedicated themselves to protecting these groups from discovery, knowing full well what the Imperium would do if it learned of them. Of course, their efforts hadn't been enough to hide the existence of these enclaves to Horus. Ahriman had come to him with that knowledge in person, and asked that they be left alone – arguing that they could be very useful resources in the Long War. Horus had indulged him, though he had seen through the Exile's justifications. For all that Ahriman had turned on his own Legion and bound his fate to the Warmaster, there was still much Tizcan sensibility left in him.**

Magnus smiled a bittersweet smile.  
**  
Other Thousand Sons sponsored cults of knowledge and sorcery within what passed for the Imperium's intellectual elite, using their pawns to gather tomes of forbidden lore and relics before coming to harvest them along with the most promising members of these societies. Not a few rebellions had been started by those whose eyes had been opened to the realities of the galaxy in that way – and so it was that, even in their hatred of him, the Thousand Sons served Horus' goals.**

The tech priest played a line, "There are things man is not meant to know." Magnus looked like he wanted to take offense at that.  
**  
By contrast, the Night Lords were still loyal to Horus, bound to him by the will of their Primarch. Since delivering Morgana to Sicarius, Konrad hadn't left Kerlazium. The divide within the Eighth had only grown, and the duality that afflicted the Eighth Legion was reflected in its approach to the Long War. There was only one common point between the two : their obsession with akhrali, that precious liquid extracted from the damned souls imprisoned upon the Night Lords' homeworld. Not only was the liquid the foundation of their dark kingdom, feeding both the Legionaries themselves and their few living thralls, but it had proven very useful in amplifying the sorcerous abilities of psykers and witches. A not insignificant number of Sorcerers from other Legions were willing to pay a high price for samples of akhrali, though the Night Lords were loath to part with any quantity.**

**"Three hundred slaves for a single bottle ? I have seen your so-called 'torture palaces', Night Lord. I know the quantities of akhrali produced daily within them. Do you take me for a fool ?"**

Konrad paled at the words Torture palaces.  
**  
"No. I take you for someone who wants what only we can provide. Four hundred slaves."**

**Conversation overheard in a station in orbit of Kerlazium**

**The former Techmarine Xerkieri had designed and built vast factory-like buildings, where millions of souls were tormented by automated devices in order to extract the akhrali more efficiently. While less potent than that harvested through more personal means, the sheer quantity produced was enough to fuel what passed for the Eighth Legion's industry. In order to increase the number of souls used both in these pain factories and as slaves, the Legion was also encouraging the growth of criminal cartels within the Imperium. The Sorcerer Nephandim had discovered a way to brand mortals in life with a sorcerous mark that ensured that their soul would manifest on Kerlazium upon their death. Gangs all over the galaxy now used this mark as a way to distinguish their members, most of them unaware of its true meaning. For the millions of ghosts brought to Kerlazium by this discovery, Nephandim had been elevated among the inner circle of the First Captain, Zso Sahaal.**

Konrad seethed with rage and disgust at his future legion.  
**  
Meanwhile, the Night Lords who had embraced Chaos' potential had chosen to pursue quality over quantity where the souls they tormented were concerned. From the Warp-infested wastes of Kerlazium, they whispered into the ears of sleeping murderers, driving them to ever-greater depths of atrocity. Thousands of hive-cities were terrorized by the serial killers inspired by the Eighth Legion, and the Night Lords laughed at the fear they created and the dwindling in the population's faith in their superiors' abilities to protect them that followed. And when their puppets inevitably died, their mad spirits were dragged to Kerlazium, where the akhrali produced from their agonies was far sweeter and more potent than that extracted from common criminals.**

Konrad had to leave the room at that point. None tried to stop him, but many were worried as to what the unstable Primarch would do.  
**  
Perturabo had kept his word after Horus had triumphed over Lorgar's and Magnus' alliance. The Lord of Iron had allied with the Warmaster – though unlike the Night Haunter, he had done so as an equal. The domains of the Fourth Legion remained independent from the Horusians, but defense pacts and trade accords had been forged between the two powers.**

**Weapons, ammunition and warmachines flowed from the industry lines of the Fourth Legion, while the Sons of Horus brought fresh slaves and resources taken from their father's Eye-born empire. The Iron Warriors controlled the greatest industrial base in the Eye of Terror, surpassed only by the infernal forge-worlds of the Dark Mechanicum – but where the heirs of Kelbor-Hal were divided and endlessly feuding among themselves, the bitter rivalries of the Fourth Legion were buried beneath their Primarch's overarching authority.**

**Even the blood-addled warbands of the Eye knew better than to attack the holdings of the Lord of Iron; not just because their defenses were all but impregnable, but because even in victory (however costly it might prove), they would draw Perturabo's cold, legendary ire. The Iron Warriors were also the last of the Traitor Legions to have dominions outside of the Eye of Terror : entire star systems whose existence had been purged from Imperial records during the Heresy, ruled with an adamantium fist by Fourth Legion warsmiths and their companies of transhuman warriors. Hidden from the Imperium, these small kingdoms were in contact with Perturabo's Triarchs.**

**Using Warp-infused technology, Perturabo's commanders made use of these distant domains. Forbidden technology was leaked to ambitious tech-priests, mercenary armies of mysterious origins provided to rebels, and elite Astartes strike forces made available to the enemies of the False Emperor. The warsmiths who controlled these islands of Iron Warriors territory were always extremely careful, unwilling to risk exposing themselves to the Imperium. Even so, despite all the security measures they took, the Inquisition eventually learned of their existence – though not of their location.**

**Across the galaxy, the hunt for the surviving traitors had redoubled, with the Imperial Fists leading the way, more determined than ever to find the Iron Warriors and purge them from the stars. Several minor dominions had already fallen, but the Lord of Iron considered them an acceptable price to pay when compared to the havoc their influence had wrought upon the Imperium. One of the warsmiths whose kingdoms was taken from him this way was Amarion, also known as the Blade-Breaker. Though his fortress world was lost to the combined efforts of the Seventh Legion and the Imperial Guard, Amarion himself survived, escaping the desolation aboard his battle-cruiser, the Unforgiven Glory, along with several dozens of his battle-brothers. In the fifty years that had passed since then, Amarion had become a plague upon trade across several Sectors of the Segmentum Tempestus, leading a disparate fleet of pirates and renegades with ruthless efficiency. It was said that Perturabo was pleased with his son's deeds – in as much as the Lord of Iron was ever pleased.**

Perturabo was stone faced at this.  
**  
Some Legions were proving less suited for the new form the Long War had taken in the wake of the Proclamation. To the surprise of absolutely no one, the Twelfth was among these. Angron's threadbare sanity had collapsed in the wake of the Conclave, leaving only pure rage and bloodlust. The Daemon Primarch of the World Eaters had returned from his banishment at the edge of the Radiant Worlds, that region of the Eye where the psychic light of the Astronomican met the madness of the Warp.**

**There, the chosen of Khorne made war unending upon the hosts of the Emperor : legions of angelic figures, gleaming with golden light. At his side were hordes of Khorne's infernal legions, and those of his living sons who were mighty enough to endure at his side, and foolish enough to try to do so. Like most things where the followers of the War God were concerned, this served a purpose beyond the mere joy of endless carnage. The metaphysics involved in this burning war spread Angron's own fury beyond the borders of the Eye. Entire ships were lost to madness during Warp translation as they heard the distant echoes of the Red Angel's screams, and were dragged into the Eye, where those who survived were soon found by the Twelfth Legion.**

The sight of the eternal war was awe inspiring and wouldn't look out of place in a religious text.  
**  
By some dark miracle, the eight warlords appointed by Horus and who had divided the might of the World Eaters among them yet lived, and they had carved bloody trails across the Eye of Terror. Each of them led a Slaughtertide : a horde of World Eaters, blood-crazed mutants and cultists, and daemons of Khorne summoned by the slaughter that followed the Slaughtertide wherever they went. More akin to galactic disasters than armed forces, even the other Legions dreaded the coming of one of the Eight to their territory, and made great use of sorcery and offerings to twist the tides of the Warp so as to keep them at bay.**

Angron looked disgusted at this. He was seeing his sons devolved into things worse than the rabid dogs of the timeline he had seen that was termed the Horus Heresy.  
**  
Such was the bloodshed they caused that it echoed in the Warp with enough strength to touch the souls of warriors and soldiers across the galaxy. Combined with visions of Angron and his daemonic allies battling the creatures born of the Emperor's psychic residue, this was enough to turn many to the bloody worship of Khorne. In the eye of these fools, Angron and his sons were brave rebels, who fought forever against all tyrants. They dedicated their own acts of bloodshed to them, and this was enough for the connection to be established, delivering the gore-soaked Eaters of Worlds outside the Eye of Terror.**

The Emperors power flared, and in a abandoned future the angels redoubled there war against the chosen of Khorne.  
**  
The Death Guard, afflicted as it was with the bountiful "gifts" of Nurgle, were at a disadvantage in the new Long War too. No sane Imperial subject would consider aligning himself with such horrific beings, and the Death Lord himself despised sorcery and refused to trust in Magnus' rituals, instead designing their own horrific methods to commune with followers outside the Eye. So disgusting and vile were these ceremonies that no member of the Imperial nobility, no matter how debauched or corrupt, would ever consider using them. But Mortarion's sons had no interest in corrupting the pampered elites of the Imperium : instead, the witches working for the Death Lord under the threat of unimaginable torment sought to plant the seeds of rebellions within the oppressed masses. From the Plague Planet, they directed a network of cults among the lower classes. To the outside eye, these groups merely offered the safety of numbers, as members watched out for one another, giving help freely in the form of food, water, and protection from gangs and cruel overseers.**

The tech priest noted, "Everyone has standards. Except Chaos it would seem." Once more the Emperors power flared, and in the much brighter future that history was set on, charitable orginizations became much more vigilant of corruption in there ranks.  
**  
It was only in the inner circles that the truth of these groups was revealed, as they embraced mutation and disease as a source of strength. Unseen by the Imperium, keeping hidden from the Inquisition, these tainted communities were growing on thousands of worlds, drawing more and more members while their leaders grew ever more monstrous. Once they reached a critical mass, the dissension began, openly aimed at increasing the standards of living. At that point, either the Imperial authorities cracked down hard on the workers (thus driving even more into the arms of the cult) or they began negotiations, which gave the cult an opening to subvert them. It was quite a devious con, and one Horus wouldn't have expected from his dour brother.**

Mortarion was simultaneously impressed and disgusted by his corrupted future self.  
**  
In the Eye of Terror, the Dearth Guard's daemon worlds were kept secure not by their defenders, but because no other force could make war upon them and survive the environment. Though the corruption of the Plague God took a different form on each one, all of them were utterly hostile to forms of life not already infected by Nurgle's afflictions. Those who besieged the dominions of the Fourteenth Legion more often than not simply bombarded them from orbit until there was naught but ashes left, before using the shifting nature of the Eye to reshape the planet entirely. But destroying the sons of Mortarion completely was even harder now than it had been before their transformation on the way to Terra, and such would-be conquerors often found that the Death Guards had survived their assault when they rose from the ruins to slaughter the invaders. Very few warlords were left in the Eye now that were willing to assault a Death Guard world : even should they claim victory, the spoils were meagre and the costs high.**

The tech priest snarked, "The most effective way to keep people out of your territory, inhabit the places no one wants in the first place."  
**  
In their gilded cities of pleasure and pain, the Emperor's Children continued their pursuit of excess. They had received Magnus' rituals with delight, seeing the new opportunities this provided them. Small cabals of sons of Fulgrim, never more than squad-sized, plotted and schemed to find ways back to the Imperium in order to sate their debased lusts upon its population. Through sorcery and infernal pacts, they made contact with the cults of Slaanesh that plagued the galaxy. From the luxurious halls of the high-spires to the obscura dens of the underhives, the charismatic Legionaries spread their twisted philosophies, turning hedonistic conclaves into degenerate cults whose horrific acts soon rent the veil and helped their transhuman patrons come across.**

Fulgrim was enraged at this.  
**  
Though all strata of Imperial society were vulnerable to their manipulations, the arrogance of the Emperor's Children made them focus their efforts on the higher classes. The sons of Fulgrim revelled in bringing down the good and great of the Imperium, reducing them to slaves to sensation and dragging all that was noble into the mud of excess and cruelty. They delighted in creating cults of personality which, under various disguises, manipulated the masses into overthrowing Imperial authorities before summoning their transhuman masters in planet-wide celebrations, at which point the charismatic tyrant proceeded to drag the world deeper and deeper into the abyss, until naught was left of its former self.**

**No sin was beyond the sons of Fulgrim, not even the ancient eugenic practices of the Old Night, which had created a thousand mutant bloodlines culled during the Great Crusade. By selective breeding and gene-splicing, families whose lineage had remained pure since the first diaspora of Humanity through the stars became monsters, hiding their inhuman aspects and hungers behind masks of stolen flesh. Billions of workers were transformed into little more than drones, their individuality stolen away by drugs and gene-twisting plagues, the Imperium only noticing what had happened when the recruiters of the Imperial Guard came to call only to find none of the tributes could learn to lift a lasgun. World after world was burning, purged by the loyalist Legions or obliterated outright by Exterminatus – and Horus' agents made sure that the stories of these events were suitably twisted to serve his needs, while the Imperium refused to let the truth spread.**

Fulgrim was so angry he had to leave the room at that point.  
**  
In the sprawling, daemon-infested cities of the Third Legion, artisans whose minds were consumed by their obsession for their craft created items of unmatched beauty, presenting them to their patrons as gifts. These artefacts were then smuggled out of the Eye and to wealthy Imperial collectors, their souls soon succumbing to the cursed relics' corruption. In all these ways, despite their lack of unified leadership, the Emperor's Children were doing a great job at pulling the Imperium down into corruption, eroding its moral strength and deepening the distrust of its trillions-strong population into its God-Emperor-appointed masters.**

Ferrus was enraged at this point.  
**  
Of Fulgrim himself there had been no sign since the Conclave. Horus knew that the Phoenician had withdrawn to his own hidden daemon world, abandoning his sons until his ever-changing whims demanded their service or worshipful attention once more. Had the Warmaster desired to, he could have found his brother – but there was no need. Like his Legion, Fulgrim had proven that he was a tool best left to his own designs : attempting to channel his capricious nature was an exercise in futility.**

**Despite Lorgar's withdrawal after Morgana's Declaration, the Word Bearers remained far more united than the Third Legion. The Dark Council had taken over, under the combined leadership of Erebus and Kor Phaeron. Through guile, cunning and blackmail, the Dark Apostle and the Master of the Faith had reclaimed their former prominent positions within the Seventeenth, and were now directing a campaign of underground warfare across the galaxy, calling upon instincts sharpened during the decades that had preceded the rebellion.**

Lorgar's anger burned like a sun, and in the nonspace he had sent there souls to (far from the reach of the dark gods) the torment of these two wretches increased ever more.  
**  
On the matter of the Proclamation, the Word Bearers were divided. Some recognized it as a strategic master-stroke, a way to turn the Traitor Legions' exile from a weakness into a strength. For while the exiled could make contact with their allies in the Imperium through sorcerous means, the Imperium could never hope to attack them in the Eye. But others believed Horus' lies to be heresy of the highest order. These fanatics believed that the Warmaster should have made the Primordial Truth obvious in his message, and re-ignite the flames of holy war in the name of Chaos. These warriors had not embraced the new War. Instead, they remained mired into the Legion Wars' mindset, guarding the Legion's daemon worlds and building weapons of apocalyptic power in preparation for what they believed to be an inevitable confrontation with the Horusians. In that regard, the remains of the Crimson Accords served them well, granting them access to the accumulated esoteric lore of the Thousand Sons.**

Lorgar sighed, "And there is no shortage of Fanatics in my legion."  
**  
A sizeable part of Horus' efforts within the Eye were dedicated to keeping track of these projects. Some, the Warmaster allowed to reach completion, seeing their potential if they could be captured – but most, he ordered to be subtly sabotaged in ways that cast the blame on the Apostles and Warpsmiths responsible. His spies also hunted for any clue as to the paths outside the Eye of Terror that the Word Bearers had secured, using them to send entire, Chapter-sized Hosts on holy quests.**

**The Ecclesiarchy bore the brunt of the Word Bearers' efforts outside the Eye. The Seventeenth Legion's hatred for the organization knew no bounds, and Kor Phaeron had sworn an oath upon the tattered remnants of his soul that he would see it disgraced and destroyed. Acknowledging that the mad cults they had employed as bolter fodder during the Heresy had little use in the new war – with the loyal Legions able and ready to crush any such pathetic insurrections – the Dark Council had adopted a different approach.**

The tech priest said, "Sympathy for the devil." The Emperor understood what he meant.  
**  
Instead of a horde of the Lost and the Damned, they focused on creating high-level agents, infused with Chaotic abilities, capable of acting as agents provocateur and assassins on par – and sometimes greater – those of the Assassin Temples. These agents were created within highly secretive cults, which operated on century-long time frames. Using indoctrination and brainwashing, their members were made fanatically loyal to a cause they more often than not knew nothing about. Buried deep within the Imperium, these organizations acted on orders they did not understand, and not even Horus – nor, the Warmaster suspected, his skulking brother's heirs – knew them all.**

**Yet for all the threat that the Seventeenth Legion might pose to his supremacy, it was the Alpha Legion that worried Horus the most. Since the Broken Conclave, he had not seen or heard from Alpharius – if it had truly been his brother who had been on Zu'lasa, and not one of his body doubles. In the final days of the rebellion, the allegiance of the Twentieth, never quite as certain as the Warmaster would have liked, had become even more muddied. On Ullanor, Alpharius had offered him a priceless trove of intelligence on Dorn's defenses of the Solar system, before departing, telling him without words that his Legion's strength had been spent in the effort to gather this data. Yet as the home system of Humanity had burned, there had been reports of warriors clad in the Hydra's colors, fighting across that great battlefield without paying heed to the commands of Horus' warlords. Most had fought on the side of the rebels … but not all.**

**The new format of the Long War played to the strengths of the Alpha Legion more than it did for any other Traitor Legion. The fanatic devotion of the Seventeenth made it more difficult for the Dark Apostles to play the subtle games required to turn the followers of the Throne without breaking their minds with the truth of Chaos or the use of their brainwashing cults, while the operatives of the Hydra were expert at twisting truth and lie alike to make pawns of others. As far as Horus could tell, the Twentieth was responsible for dozens of civil wars which had crippled supply lines to Imperial war zones and destabilized Sectors upon which the loyal Legions counted for recruitment – and these were only the ones that hadn't escaped his gaze.**

Alpharious and Omegon both looked smug.  
**  
He didn't know where the Alpha Legion's main base was located, if it even had one. He suspected that the number of outposts of the Twentieth outside the Eye surpassed even that of the Fourth Legion. It also seemed that the sons of Alpharius could move in and out of the Eye of Terror at will. Outside the Eye, their lack of obvious Chaotic markings allowed them to disguise themselves as warriors from loyal Legions with nothing more than a new coat of paint on their armors.**

**An army of master conspirators, scattered across the galaxy with little if any cohesive leadership, its loyalties questionable and its skills undeniable. Sometimes, Horus felt as if he ought to pity those in the Imperium who knew of the Hydra's threat. They truly were a nightmare enemy.**

**From his throne, Horus watched it all, listening to the whispers of countless daemons and the reports of his spy-masters and Sorcerers. In his mind's eye, he held an image of the galaxy, considering every angle of the Long War, seeing where and when best to act to shift things to his advantage. Even now, with the nine Traitor Legions working to drag the Imperium into darkness in their own ways, the empire they had all built together remained strong. His loyalist brothers worked tirelessly to keep it standing, to repair what the heretics and the xenos tore down.**

**He knew that it would take time before he could ever hope to overthrow the Imperium and claim the glory that was rightfully his. But it was fine. He could play the game. He could be patient.**

**In the end, all would kneel to him.**

With that ominous phrase the video ended and Dorn returned. He proclaimed, "The doctors say I don't have any brain damage." The tech priest snarked by playing a woman's voice saying, "You seem fine...physically, at least."


	29. prince of the eye part 17

this was made by Zahariel

s/13366753/17/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-17#post-62282558

sorry about not posting on Wednesday, my computer was acting up.

* * *

The tech priest read the title of the next video, and a wirring was heard. The Imperial Family immediately recognized that as the tech priest's eyes widening. He then said, "Maybe we should skip this one." Russ immediately barked out, "Why?" Magnus then said, "Yes, why should we skip this entry?" The tech priest sighed musically and explained, "I can only assume from its title that it concerns you two." He held up the file and Rogal read it aloud, "The coming of the wolves?" The tech priest nodded and said, "Judging by its title, I can only assume it concerns how Lord Russ and the 13th company enter the eye of terror." The Emperor then said, "PLAY IT." The tech priest nodded, "As you command my Emperor."

**Of all the loyal Space Marine Legions, the Sixth had suffered more than most and less than some during the Heresy. Never the most numerous of Legions, it had sustained heavy casualties at Prospero, before being bled further at the battle of the Alaxxes Nebula by the Alpha Legion. Then had come the attempt at striking down Horus at Beta-Garmon, and the carnage of Yarant. Less than ten thousand warriors of the Rout had survived, and they arrived at Terra to find the planet ravaged, the traitors fleeing, and the Emperor all but dead.**

Russ looked disheartened by this.  
**  
Driven by fury and shame alike, the Vlka Fenryka threw themselves into the grim warfare of the Scouring. Acting as the Emperor's executioners one last time, they purged world after world of any trace of daemonic infestation. The champions of the Sixth Legion struck down many infernal lords during that dark time, regaining some of the honor they perceived they had lost. Russ himself hunted for the Vengeful Spirit, his hunt being thwarted when he reached the Cadian Gate and realized that going further was meaningless suicide. For years, the Wolf King remained on Cadia, guarding the Gate until Dorn and his Imperial Fists arrived to turn the planet into an impregnable stronghold. Only then did Russ depart, returning to Fenris to rebuild his decimated Legion.**

**In the decades that followed the Scouring, the Space Wolves underwent a great many changes. Between Horus' manipulations of the Legion and the loss of the Emperor's guidance, they no longer felt confident that they could act as the Imperium's executioners, for neither Russ nor his commanders trusted the newly appointed High Lords of Terra completely. The certitude that came with being the axe of the Master of Mankind was lost, and the Wolves' image within the Imperium, that of blood-soaked barbarians, was now a threat to them. With fear of the Traitor Legions imprinted deep within Mankind's collective psyche, there was a real possibility that the Imperium itself would turn against the Sixth Legion out of fear born of incomprehension and the Wolves' own playing upon their dreaded reputation.**

**Drawing upon Fenris' sagas, the Great Wolves decided that, instead of killers, they would become heroes. No longer would they be the dread executioners, sent to crush those who defied the Emperor's laws : instead, they would be champions, slaying the beasts and monsters that threatened the Imperium's peace. New Legionaries were raised from Fenrisian stock, their minds filled with tales of the glory to be found hunting down the monsters that dwelled among the stars rather than with the brutal necessity of purging those who defied the edicts of the Golden Throne.**

Russ silently vowed to initiate this change to his legion as soon as possible.  
**  
The rebuilt Great Companies took to the stars, fighting on the fringes of the Imperium against Ork empires and other xenos threats, while dispatching smaller groups of warriors to answer the pleas for help of isolated system. And slowly, over the course of decades, the reputation of the Sixth Legion in the wider Imperium changed, as the memories of the Great Crusade faded, replaced by those of warriors in grey warplate striking down xenos abominations. The threat of excommunication diminished, helped by the intervention of Sanguinius, who intervened before the gathered High Lords in 658.M31 to renew his trust in all of his remaining brothers' loyalty.**

Sanguinius smiled a bit at being able to help his brother.  
**  
As the Inquisition grew and divided into those who sought to defend Mankind against the taint of the Warp and those who sought to protect it from alien influences and menaces, many Inquisitors belonging to the latter category developed tight bonds with the Sixth Legion. A few Fenris-born Inquisitors helped cement that relationship, and soon, it wasn't rare for Inquisitors to be accompanied by a small cadre of Vlka Fenryka warriors, acting both as bodyguards and kill-teams when necessary. On hundreds of worlds, Acolytes of the Ordos worked to uncover alien plots or xenos monsters, before calling upon the sons of Russ to eliminate the threat with bolter and blade.**

Rogal noted, "It seems that the Space Wolves replace the Deathwatch in this universe." Perturabo promptly smacked him.  
**  
Meanwhile, as his sons carved a new place for themselves in the new Imperium, in his chambers within the Fang, Leman Russ brooded. The Wolf King was tormented by guilt, wondering if he could have saved the Emperor's life from Horus had he not abandoned his chance to stand on the walls of the Imperial Palace in pursuit of the opportunity to kill Horus himself. Despite his brothers' best efforts, he could see the Imperium slowly descend into superstition and tyranny, growing ever further from the Emperor's vision. For a time, immersing himself into the rebuilding of his Legion and the diplomatic work of reforging the Imperium in the wake of Horus' treachery was enough to keep his mind from such dark thoughts, but as peace returned to the galaxy, there were no more distractions left. Then came the Proclamation of Horus.**

**Russ had known that the Warmaster wasn't dead. The Wolf King was well versed in the ways of destiny and fate, and he knew that, if Horus hadn't been slain by the Emperor, then he would not simply perish from his wounds or be slain by another traitor. Horus' wyrd was a tangled and cruel one, a doom that lingered over the future of all Humanity. And yet, Russ also knew from bitter experience that he could not hope to be the one who would end the Warmaster's life. He had tried that before, and it had failed then. Perhaps Horus was weaker now than he had been at Beta-Garmon, but so was Russ, his spirit drained by the exertions of the Heresy.**

**Instead, Russ turned his sights to another goal. If his failure had contributed in the Emperor's fall, then he could atone for them by enabling the restoration of the Master of Mankind. With Horus and the other traitor Primarchs manipulating the population of the Imperium from the Eye of Terror, only the leadership of the Emperor could ensure that the corruption of Chaos could be kept at bay – and Russ would not trust on the Inquisition, let alone the Ecclesiarchy, to defend the gates of Humanity's soul.**

Russ then proclaimed, "Of course I would try to find a way to bring you back Father." The Emperor smiled a bit at that.  
**  
After delegating most of his responsibilities to the Great Wolves, Russ delved into the accumulated lore of Fenris. He put aside his martial ways and embraced the more intellectual aspects of his transhuman nature. Using the contacts his Legion had built with the Inquisition, he arranged for restricted tomes to be delivered to the Fang, and sent parties of warriors to remote parts of the galaxy in search of knowledge from the Dark Age of Technology – and even older epochs.**

**The Wolf King worked in this manner for several centuries, developing partnerships with conspiracies of Inquisitors and even brokering deals with Craftworld Eldar, exchanging their lore for relics of their fallen empire or the mercy of Imperial forces. The vaults of the Fang were filled with ancient and alien wonders, yet still Russ seemed no closer to finding what he sought.**

**Perhaps his quest was in vain, or perhaps it would only have taken him a few more years – or a few millennia to complete. In the end, no one would ever know, for as Leman Russ had focused on salvaging the future of Mankind through the Emperor's resurrection, his Legion's old enemies sought to destroy him and all he had worked for.**

**In the year 666.M32 (a numerology which drew upon ancient human superstitions and fears), the Thousand Sons Legion launched its greatest military operation outside the Eye of Terror since the Siege of Terra. For decades, cultists and operatives of the Fifteenth Legion had worked through the Segmentum Obscurus. Pirate warbands drew forces away from Fenris, while distrust in the Sixth Legion grew as witches and demagogues sought to resurrect the old fears. Kill-teams attached to the Inquisition were ambushed by daemon-backed hunters who sought not to kill, but to capture, dragging their victims to secret lairs and laboratories. There, the Space Wolves were tortured using science and sorcery until they transformed into Wulfen, which were drugged and put into stasis.**

The sight of his sons tortured and turned into monsters enraged Russ, and had the Emperor not been using his psychic power to keep Russ in place then the Space Wolf Primarch would have attacked Magnus.  
**  
As the schemes of the Thousand Sons reached completion, these maddened warriors were unleashed within the halls of Imperial power on a dozen highly-developed worlds. Driven to insanity by the torments they had endured, these Wulfens – who still bore recognizable Sixth Legion insignias – slaughtered hundreds of Imperial dignitaries before being put down. Terror seized these worlds as the images of the carnage were broadcast by treacherous agents.**

**With their circles of advisors whispering in their ears that they must take a stand or risk rebellion, the Governors of these worlds made their choice. Despite the growing panic, they did not dare openly declare war upon the Sixth Legion. Instead, they sent flotillas and soldiers to Fenris, to bring the bodies of the Wulfen before Leman Russ and demand answers from the Wolf King himself. Select diplomats were assigned to these fleets, and a tense calm descended in their departure.**

**These diplomats, however, were no loyal servants of the Throne, but agents of the Thousand Sons. As the ships made course through the Warp for Fenris, they enacted vile rituals and sabotaged the Geller Fields. Sorcerers of the Fifteenth Legion and their Rubricae troops manifested aboard the vessels, while plague of madness and mutation ravaged the crew and soldiers aboard. Elsewhere, dark rituals and conspiracies centuries in the making brought other forces to bear, as Daemon Princes of Tzeentch that had not stalked the galaxy for aeons were brought back into the Materium.**

The sight of these horrible and ancient Daemons of Tzeentch sent shockwaves of fear through the room.

**A new Black Crusade had begun, formed of the Imperium's own strength turned against one of its most loyal Legions through the machinations of the Thousand Sons. When the Warp opened at the edge of Fenris system and disgorged a horde of daemonships and tainted vessels, a single warcry echoed across the vox and the system's Aether : "Revenge for Prospero !"**

**Like befitted a Legion's home system, Fenris was well-defended, but while it had plenty of space stations and other defenses, its defenders had been slowly bled dry by the growth of piratical activity throughout the Segmentum. The Black Crusade smashed through the outer defenses, making for Fenris itself. In the Fang, Russ assembled the forces at his disposal – disparate elements of all Great Companies, as well as nearly the entire strength of the Thirteenth, returned from a brutal campaign against a Rak'Gol uprising. The Wolf King believed that the Fang would be the primary target of the invaders, but he was wrong.**

**The Chaos forces made planetfall all across the planet, and the Daemon Princes leading them began to build vast, nightmarish structures upon the ice and waters of the planet. These Chaos constructions strained the world's unstable nature even further, threatening to pull it apart. The scheme of the Thousand Sons was revealed : they sought to obliterate Fenris itself, dragging its pieces into the Warp where they would become the fiefdoms of the Daemon Princes that had joined the Black Crusade. Convinced that the hand of Magnus was behind this, Russ commanded his Rune Priests to find where the Cyclops was hiding – but they could not find him.**

The sight of the nightmarish strucrures was enough to ensure none of the Primarchs would ever fall to Tzeentch.  
**  
Despite his misgivings, Russ knew that he had no choice. Already, the skies above the Fang were filled with crimson clouds, and blood and tears rained from the heavens as men and women were turned insane by unholy visions that haunted their every waking moment as well as their dreams. The earth shook, though it wasn't yet the season for it, and ancient monsters were rising from the depths to prey upon the terrified tribes. This seemed like the end times : the infernal structures had to be cast down before Fenris tore itself apart.**

**Taking his most elite warriors with him, Russ left the Fang and went on a pilgrimage across Fenris, hunting down the nine Daemon Princes and their followers. One by one they fell to his blade, banished back to the Realms of Chaos. As his quest went on, however, Russ grew further and further from the Fang, while communications with the warriors still stationed in the Legion's fortress grew ever more erratic as conditions continued to deteriorate.**

**It was then that Magnus' trap sprung. From the portal to the Underverse known as Syrtyr's Door, the Crimson King himself emerged, accompanied by a vast daemonic legion. As his sons and their allies laid siege to Fenris within the Materium, Magnus had led an invasion of Fenris' psychic reflection within the Sea of Souls. The disturbances this had caused had been noticed by the Rune Priests, but their significance had been lost in the face of the more obvious threat they faced.**

Once again Russ wanted to kill Magnus in horribly brutal ways, but the Emperor stopped him.  
**  
"Your petty ancestral spirits are nothing but pale reflections of true power, as befits the pathetic creations of childish minds. Muspjall burns in the fires of Change, the souls of the unworthy dead now fuel for Tzeentch's great engines. And as for your Erlking … his tricks could not deceive me."**

**Declaration of Magnus the Red during the breach of the Fang**

Magnus had to admit he was impressed by his corrupted counterpart.  
**  
After laying waste to much of the Fang, destroying the Legion's greatest reserve of gene-seed and plundering the treasure vaults where Russ had stored the fruits of his agents' quests, Magnus withdrew. On the way back to Syrtyr's Door, the Crimson King sent psychic messages to Russ, taunting him with his many failures, telling him that he too would now know what it felt like to watch his home burn and be unable to protect it. When the Wolf King arrived to find the Fang aflame, his rage grew beyond measure. On the spot, he appointed his second-in-command Bjorn as the regent of the Legion, while he took the Thirteenth Great Company with him in pursuit of Magnus and his infernal host.**

**Russ and the entire Thirteenth Great Company vanished through Syrtyr's Door, which closed soon after, never to re-open again in spite of all the efforts of the Rune Priests. The Underverse of Fenris was in a state of total anarchy, with gods that had been worshiped by the planet's populations for millennia destroyed by Magnus' demonic horde. For entire generations afterwards, Bjorn and his brothers had to work with the Inquisition to examine the beliefs of the Fenrisian tribes, searching for any signs of Chaotic influence. Entire clans were exterminated, and daemonic spirits that had remained hidden on the planet after Magnus' departure were exorcised or bound within sites of eldritch power that were forbidden to all, their dark legacy recorded in new sagas.**

The Emperor glared at Russ, who chuckled sheepishly. The intent was clear, get rid of the worship.  
**  
Though Magnus returned to Sortiarius, there was no sign of Leman Russ. However, in the years that followed the battle of Fenris, rumors began to circulate within the Eye of Terror. These tales spoke of great, wolf-like beasts that hunted across the storm-wracked regions of the Eye, seeking the heart's blood of any who had ever fought under the banner of the Eye of Horus. They could be slain, but upon defeat would merely dissolve into black smoke, leaving no trace of their passing. According to the Neverborn that Sorcerers from all Traitor Legions summoned and interrogated, these were the dreams of Leman Russ and his lost warriors, manifesting in the Eye.**

The video ended, and Russ declared he needed a drink.


	30. warhammer 45k part three

this was made by The Stormlord

forum/threads/warhammer-45k.212112/#post-5209635

* * *

The tech priest played the next video in the series as the family turned to the screen.

_****Chapter Three: The Lorgarian Crusade and the Fall of Ultramar****_

Lorgar was surprised and said, "Lorgarian Crusade." Meanwhile Roboute was worried and asked, "Fall of Ultramar?"  
**  
The Fourteenth Black Crusade of Abaddon was his greatest movement since the First, enshrouding a thousand worlds in darkness. It began in the middle centuries of M42, as the galaxy still reeled from the birth-cries of the Holy Tyrant. From the Eye of Terror an unholy tide of corruption struck, as armies not seen since the Horus Heresy ravaged Segmentum Obscurus, before warring amongst themselves for sport and spite, destroying what chance of galactic conquest they might have had. But then, a tiding of tremendous darkness came. **

The sight of the Fourteenth Black Crusade saddened many in the room, while the others had a strange mixture of pride and disgust.  
**  
Lorgar Aurelian, daemon-Primarch of the Word Bearers, rose from the Templum Inficio, and re-united the Word Bearers Legion. In a tremendous burst of psychic power, Sicarus relocated itself to the Maelstrom. From Ghalmek's core rose the Hell-ship _Blasphematium_, an immense flagship the size of a moon that had been under construction for ten thousand years, ripping the planet apart as it rose into the stars, under the control of the Dark Apostle Eliphas the Resurrected, Ravager of Kronus and Bane of Aurelia, reborn in new flesh to raze Ultramar to the ground.**

Lorgar turned to Roboute and said, "I don't blame you for what happened anymore." Roboute was surprised, then realized that the videos had revealed the horrible path Lorgar had been walking. As such, all Roboute could say was, "Thanks for that."  
**  
The Word Bearers ravaged Chogoris and Valhalla, razing those worlds to dust. The Warp roiled as the wars raging in the material universe filled it with new and terrible emotions, as Lorgar's wrathful rampage slaughtered whole planets. Whole worlds were converted into sacrificial altars to the four powers of Chaos, and the baleful glare of the Eye of Terra, its terrible light serving as a reference point for the Navigator mutant-breed, was dimmed as the aether roiled and stormed in wrath. Lorgar had new and more terrible forces under his command - the black-hearted Knights Evangelistii, the Hell-Guard of Sicarus, and innumerable daemons. They fell upon the world of San Leor, birth-place of the Adepta Sororitas, with baleful fury. Fifty thousand Word Bearers formed Lorgar's body-guard on that black day, killing all in their path. The remnants of the Adepta's Orders Militant had established themselves upon San Leor, and stood as a bulwark against the foul tide.**

Jagathai Khan spared a single glare at Lorgar and left it at that.  
**  
The Battle of San Leor was epic and terrible. Daemon-sorceries set the sky afire, as Lorgar faced the Abbess Militant herself, and broke her. The Sisters resolved not to win, but to kill as many as they could. And that they did. Not a single Sister ran or tried to surrender, as the Word Bearers slew every every last living soul upon San Leor. The seas boiled and the world's tectonic plates dislocated under the fury of Lorgar's orbital bombardment. But Lorgar was denied victory, for at the last moment, as Lorgar gloated over his victory, a secret stash of cyclonic torpedoes was set off, blasting the world apart. San Leor was killed most emphatically, yet in its death a storm of asteroids destroyed the fleet of the Word Bearers, ending the Lorgarian Crusade.**

The Tech Priest noted, "Say what you will about there beliefs, they know how to kick chaotic butt." The Emperor was the first to agree.  
**  
At Ultramar the war was yet different. The _Blasphematium_ arrived to find the Ultramarines struggling against the silvered hosts of Imotekh the Stormlord. The Necron Overlord, Master of the Sautekh Dynasty, had allied with Trazyn the Infinite to bring Ultramar, which bordered his growing empire, to heel. Support from their many successors had arrived, but the Ultramarines could not win against the unending tide of metal. Eliphas joined the melee with aplomb, razing Calth where Kor Phaeron had failed in the dark times of the Heresy, obliterating every last soul upon it. The daemon-choirs of Eliphas' flagship were unleashed, covering Ultramar in a Warp-squall which prevented astropath-communications from leaking out.**

Roboute was saddened by the sight of his empire being destroyed.  
**  
The Second Battle of Macragge was a three-way war, as Necron and Word Bearer and Ultramarine did battle against each other. Cato Sicarius, victor of Medusa V, was last seen hewing into the ranks of Necron Lychguard with his tempest-blade at the north polar defence fortress, defending Macragge. The Honour Guard were slain to a man as they defended Marneus Calgar by Trazyn the Infinite, who took the stasis-locked body of Guilliman as a trophy. The Fortress of Hera swiftly, after the extermination of the Ultramarines (save for the Fourth and Tenth Companies) became the stage for war between the Stormlord's forces and those of Eliphas. The _Blasphematium _unleashed terrible beams of Warp-fire and blasts of immatricial energy upon the Necron hosts, yet Eliphas himself was defeated, losing an arm to the Stormlord, narrowly escaping and declaring undying vengeance. The _Blasphematium_ itself was severely damaged and would become a ghost, a phantom ship, for the ten centuries until the Fourth Armageddon War.**

The Tech Priest adopted a perfect mimicry of Cato Sicarius and said, "I, Cato Sicarius, have realized what a butthole that I, Cato Sicarius, have been. Thus I, Cato Sicarius, shall seek redemption in death." The Imperial Family chuckled at that.  
**  
The galaxy was as dark as it had been in the times of the Horus Heresy. Yet worse was to come.**

The Emperor was worried and he asked, "WHAT COULD BE WORSE THAN THIS?"


	31. prince of the eye part 18

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-18#post-62305778

s/13366753/18/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest announced the name of this particular video with trepidation, knowing full well the Emperor's hatred of religion and Lorgars newfound hatred of Chaos. Since neither objected he went ahead and played the video.

**Since its foundation, the Ecclesiarchy had been plagued with corruption, fanaticism and petty power-plays. But while its high ranks were full of the arrogant, the ambitious and the greedy, the lowly priests who walked among the Imperium's huddled masses preaching the word of the Emperor were generally true to their faith – though they were still often fanatical and prone to violence against any perceived sinners.**

Lorgar noted, "That pretty much sums up religious orginizations in general."  
**  
One such priest was Thoranos Elijah, born and raised within the Invernus Sector in the last century of the thirty-second millennium. An orphan of the underhive, Thoranos had been selected by the Ecclesiarchy for his intelligence, his charisma, and his true belief in the God-Emperor. After being ordained, he chose to turn away from the Ecclesiarchy's byzantine hierarchy, instead returning to the starless depths of metal and violence where he had been born. There, Thoranos sought to bring the light of the Emperor's word to the gangs, the cast-offs and the abandoned.**

The Emperor reluctantly nodded approval at this.  
**  
Thoranos preached that, while the denizens of the underhive lived harsh lives, those were still gifts of the Emperor, and must be cherished and protected – and not thrown away carelessly. Using his contacts among the Ecclesiarchy, he set up public kitchens and built churches where, in between sermons, the destitute could rest in the safety of the Emperor's protection. His sincerity got him the respect of the underhivers, and though the violence did not entirely stop – for not even the Emperor Himself could have silenced the guns of an entire underhive – the cruel practices of the gangs diminished as their faith grew. Some of Thoranos' superiors noticed his efforts, and began to recruit the most civilized of the gangs into the militias of the Fratris Templars. While Thoranos was glad to see his work acknowledged and the gangers elevated to more noble positions, he himself didn't aspire to anything other than remaining within the underhive, doing the Emperor's work.**

Rogal bluntly stated, "I wonder how the chaos gods are gonna screw this guy over." Perturabo hit him once more.  
**  
Unbeknownst to Thoranos himself, however, his destiny was to be much greater. The threads of his fate burned bright in the Sea of Souls, drawing the attention of varied powers. Had his destiny be allowed to reach its natural end, Thoranos would have become a holy prophet of the Imperial Creed who would have brought reform to the Ecclesiarchy across entire Sectors, perhaps even rising to the seat of Ecclesiarch in order to renew the organization's dedication to its founding ideals. But this was not to be.**

The Emperor's power slightly flared up at this, and the tech priest prepared to bolt.  
**  
In the Imperial Palace, the Custodes divined the will of their silent master through the Emperor's Tarot, and dispatched a squad of their own to guard Elijah's life. While rare, this was not the first time they had done so : the Custodes' defense of the Emperor's life took many forms, including preventing threats to the Throneworld from arising in the first place through subtle actions. The ship left the Solar system, making full speed for the Invernus Sector.**

The Emperor was like a bomb about to go off. He counted down from ten to calm himself down.  
**  
It never arrived. Battered by empyric tempests, the Geller Field failed, and the vessel was swarmed by daemonic entities. The Custodes fought long and bravely, but in the end, they were overwhelmed, and the ship was lost with all hands. In the decades to come, it would be discovered that this had been more than just another random tragedy of Warp navigation.**

That tore it. The Emperor's rage flared and Horus yelled, "Run for your lives!" The tech priest was already 50 corridors away when Horus issued that order. A few hours later it was deemed safe enough for the primarchs to re-enter. Then a few more hours later the tech priest re-entered, mumbling comparisons to Chernobyl and three mile island in binary and the viewing resumed.  
**  
In the depths of the underhive, Thoranos was wracked with nightmares. Long had the humble preacher been tormented by the suffering and abject living of the Imperium's lowest citizens, but now his nights were filled with much worse torment. He saw ruined cities under burning skies, where things that had once been humans were driven to cannibalism and other desperate measures to survive. He dreamt of once-proud, decaying warships marked by war and fighting losing battles against violent storms. Within the halls of fallen temples and cathedrals, his dream-self encountered emaciated figures which looked at him with pitiful eyes, silently begging for succour. Within castles and strongholds that fell to pieces even as they were built, he saw angels with scorched wings struggling to build a legacy, forever doomed to fail by the very nature of their environment.**

**Though only a lowly priest, Thoranos had been a star pupil of the Ecclesiarchy. He recognized that his visions were showing him the Hell where sinners, traitors, mutants and heretics were consigned to – but it was a very different place from what he had been told. Instead of the fiery pits of eternal agony, there was only a slow, abject misery, devoid of any hope – a broken cosmos where entropy reigned and all good things had faded away.**

Most of the room was depressed by that and Leman said, "I don't know which hell is worse."  
**  
In the end, it was Thoranos' compassion which was his downfall. The suffering of the damned was too much for him to bear. In his mind, no crime could justify such punishment, and any god that decreed otherwise must be a cruel and unjust one. So did the seeds of heresy finally sprout within the soul of Thoranos Elijah; and, in their towers on Sicarius, the Dark Apostles of the Word Bearers rejoiced. Long had the disciples of Lorgar worked to twist Thoranos against the False Emperor. With sorcerous rituals, they had sent the Neverborn against the Custodes' ship; with spells and entreaties to the Dark Gods, they had manipulated the preacher's dream, sending him altered, hand-picked visions of the Eye of Terror. Through their efforts, Thoranos' destiny had been corrupted : instead of being a messianic figure for the Ecclesiarchy, he would become a saviour of the damned.**

Lorgar turned his weapon on himself, only stopped by Horus and Sanguinius.  
**  
In the years that followed, Thoranos slowly abandoned his faith in the God-Emperor completely. He never stopped believing that the Master of Mankind was a god, simply rejected the idea that the Emperor was a god deserving of worship. His sermons slowly changed, focusing more on the notion of the people helping one another rather than praying for the Emperor's aid or salvation in death. At the same time, he began to build his own power structure, recruiting gang leaders and other community pillars with the promise of constructing better lives for all of them. The notion that it was the duty, the nature of human beings to help each other spread across the underhive, bringing an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity that was barely noticed by the spire-born.**

**During that time, Thoranos grew more and more obsessed with the suffering of the damned. His visions continued, now containing actual discourse between him and the figures he saw : they knew he wanted to help them, and gave him the knowledge he needed. As Thoranos' psychic potential blossomed, he was able to make contact with greater and greater entities within the Realms of Chaos and the Eye of Terror, his mind interpreting everything it witnessed to fit his vision of the Lost and the Damned as a betrayed, abandoned and unjustly punished people. And as he did so, more and more pieces of his soul fell away, replaced by an unbending conviction.**

Vulkan looked troubled by this.  
**  
Thoranos never embraced the worship of Chaos or the Ruinous Powers : he forged his own dark faith, grown from the seeds planted by the Word Bearers but shaped into something of his own design. He began to speak of his visions at sermons, depicting the lost souls of the damned as pitiful wretches that needed the help of the living to be freed of their unjust torment. Aided by his growing psychic powers, he was able to convince many to assist him. In the darkness of the underhive, hidden from their masters' attention by growing productivity and lower crime rates, the preparations began. Psykers were hidden from the Black Ships, ritual components were smuggled from off-world, and believers were shipped off to other star systems to spread Thoranos' message.**

**In the year 968.M32, Thoranos Elijah declared rebellion against the Imperium. From the depths of the underhive of Invernus' capital world, a veritable army emerged, trained and equipped by veteran gangers and retired, disillusioned members of the Astra Militarum who had been ensnared by Thoranos' vision. The fervent prayers of thousands of cultists and the ritual sacrifices of the agents of oppression – Arbites, spire-born and captured Acolytes of the Inquisition – opened portals to the Eye of Terror through which arrived Thoranos' hidden sponsors, the Word Bearers of the Starless Eye. Along with them came bound daemonhosts and mutant cultists.**

**The Word Bearers had been briefed by their Dark Apostles as to Thoranos' and his followers' beliefs, and were mindful not to betray what they really thought of the mortals through their actions. In truth – and to the Dark Apostles' silent disquiet – many of the sons of Lorgar were impressed by the intensity of Thoranos' belief. The newly-proclaimed Prophet of Truth embraced them as angels who had been cast down by a cruel master for questioning His commands, now returned to help bring others to the truth they had discovered. It was a narrative that played upon the Word Bearers' sense of importance as the heralds of the Primordial Truth. They embraced Thoranos and his cultists as brothers and sisters, and shared with them the secrets of Chaos.**

Most of the room was worried by this. Was the titular saint of Chaos Thoranos or a minor warp deity spawned by this twisted theology.  
**  
Within a few months, the Invernus Sector had fallen. Merchant ships and Imperial Navy groups were suborned by Chaos Marine strike teams, and the structures of Imperial power collapsed as the enslaved masses rose against their oppressors on a hundred worlds. Under the spiritual guidance of the Prophet of Truth, the Children of Elijah, as the rebellion called itself, cast off the chains of the Imperium. Those who resisted were offered as sacrifices to the Warp, their energies serving to feed what the Children believed to be the starved spirits of the dead who had been punished in the afterlife by the tyrannical Emperor. Through use of necromancy, the Word Bearers helped perpetrate that lie by helping some of the rebellion's fallen heroes to "return to life". The Ruinous Powers drank deep of this Sector-wide delusion, and of the bloodshed and wide-spread destruction.**

**Inevitably, the Imperium responded to the Invernus uprising. A vast Crusade force was assembled, and a great war began as the Children of Elijah fought tooth and nail to protect the freedom they had conquered with their blood and effort. Cities burned and worlds were destroyed, and the violence unleashed by the Imperium only served to propel the Children ever deeper into the embrace of the Ruinous Powers, with Thoranos Elijah himself becoming more and more convinced of the rightfulness of his actions as the casualty reports mounted.**

**"Now the masks have fallen, and the true face of the Imperium is revealed for all to see. Know this, my brothers and sisters : even should we fall in battle against the armies of tyranny, our lives are not spent in vain. It is better to die free than to live as slaves, just as it is better to dedicate one's life to assisting others than it is to spend it selfishly. That is the difference between us and them."**

**Thoranos Elijah to his followers, 972.M32**

The Emperor buried his face in his hands as this Chaos cultist spoke an undeniable truth.  
**  
In the end, the Crusade culminated in a final confrontation between Thoranos himself and the Blood Angels contingent that accompanied the Imperial forces. On Invernus Prime, the Prophet of Truth faced the sons of Sanguinius, wielding all of his accrued sorcerous power with devastating efficacy. The warriors of the Starless Sky fought at his side, seeking to atone for the death of their Dark Apostles at the Blood Angels' blades by martyring themselves alongside Thoranos. The Space Marines had thought the Dark Apostles to be the true architects of the rebellion, but to their surprise, the Children of Elijah had remained steadfast even after their elimination in a suicidal strike by a Black Company kill-team.**

Sanguinius quirked an eyebrow, "Wait, the Black Rage exists in this timeline despite the fact that I am still alive? How does that work?" The Emperor shrugged.  
**  
As the skies of Invernus Prime filled with Warp energy and more and more of the Children swore their souls to daemons in exchange for the power to protect their land and comrades, Thoranos saw that defeat was inevitable. Though most of their first attack on the planet's surface had been repelled, the Imperium would keep coming, would keep sending more and more forces until the Children were crushed. For to admit defeat was the one thing that the tyrant Emperor and His lackeys could not allow, lest others also rise against His cruel rule.**

The Emperor desperately wanted to say otherwise, but he couldn't.  
**  
Drawing upon all of his power, Thoranos called upon the Ruinous Powers. In his twisted theology, the Dark Gods were the accumulated psychic mass of all the souls that had been consigned to Hell by the Emperor, their essences pooling together after their individual features and memories had been scoured away by the torments of the Eye of Terror. Though it broke his heart to consign his followers to such a fate, with the help of the Dark Gods, he rent apart reality and dragged the world of Invernus Prime itself into the Warp.**

**Cut off from their allies in orbit and surrounded by the madness of Chaos, the remaining Imperials were quickly slaughtered, and the world was delivered by the tides of the Warp to the Eye of Terror. For a time, its skies were dark, lit only by the baleful radiance of the Eye's Warp Storms. Then, as the Children began to despair, a new star began to burn in the heavens. Though few knew it at the time, that star was actually the captured Greater Daemon Ixxlesith, a fiery servant of Tzeentch that had been defeated by the Starless Sky long ago and was now put to use as Invernus Prime's new sun. Free from the threat of Imperial retribution, but now trapped inside the very Hell they had sought to deliver their damned brethren from, the Children began to rebuild. The war-torn ruins of Invernus Prime – which was soon renamed to simply Invernus, as word came in that the Sector of the same name had been renamed in the wake of the uprising's defeat – provided plenty of material.**

The sight of Invernus was horrifying and awe inspiring at the same time, much like the warp in general.  
**  
Thoranos himself had been transfigured by the journey to the Eye of Terror. The last of his humanity, which had been slowly chipped off for decades, had been stripped away entirely. He had ascended to daemonhood, becoming an immortal prince of Chaos Undivided – yet he still held onto the belief system he had constructed during his mortal years. Though he now held the power to leave Invernus behind, he chose to remain on the new daemon world, to continue to guide the Children as he had before. Under his leadership and after a few meetings with envoys of the Seventeenth Legion, Invernus became a protectorate of the Word Bearers.**

Lorgar was disgusted by this.  
**  
In a cruel twist of fate typical of Chaos, Thoranos' own beliefs as to the nature of the Eye of Terror ended up working against his goals. The Prophet of Truth's image of the Eye as a place of entropy and misery imprinted itself on the daemon world, making every endeavour of the Children more difficult. Yet they held onto their beliefs, helping each other and dreaming of the day they would return to the Materium to bring down the Imperium's tyranny and free all of Humanity.**

The tech priest intoned an old saying that rang true, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."  
**  
As for what the Dark Council thought of it all ? It is said that, when news of Invernus Prime's fate reached Sicarius, Erebus and Kor Phaeron laughed together for the first time in living memory.**

The video ended, and Lorgars rage at this whole video caused the eternal torture of Erebus and Kor Phareon to worsen ever more.


	32. everqueen part one

this was made by ashynarr

forum/threads/everqueen-warhammer-30k.475460/

s/13442383/1/Everqueen

* * *

Perturabo looked boredly through the files, it was his turn and he didn't know what to watch. Then he stumbled upon one titled "Everqueen" and decided to just choose that and get it over with. Upon hearing the title the Emperor said, "EVERQUEEN? WONDER WHAT ITS ABOUT." The tech priest said, "Maybe its a universe where you are a female my Emperor." The Emperor then blushed incandescently and Rogal, blunt and unlearning as ever, commented, "I think you would be a beautiful woman Father." The Emperor hit Rogal so hard that it surprised everyone else in the room that his head hadn't been torn clean off or reduced to a stain on the wall. As medical personnel took Rogal to sick bay Horus just commented, "How about we just watch the file?" The Emperor nodded and the tech priest played the video.

**The birth of a god was meant to be a momentous occasion, a call for celebration as the bundle of emotions and concepts drifting together in the warp fused into a new being. Isha could recall the day her daughter had been born - her eyes had opened so slowly, as if from a deep sleep, to reveal all the promise of the future to come.**

The Emperor rolled his eyes at the statement that started off the holovid. Lorgar said, "At least we know its not an Empress universe." Angron, being what the early 21st century people deemed a troll, said, "No we don't."  
**  
Promises that were now as nothing, as the Pantheon continued to watch the Eldar gestate their newest god. Lileath had said long ago that the Eldar would be the downfall of the gods, and it seemed at last that they were making good on that dreamt prophecy. Isha wished she still had the energy to be angry, but she'd already spent it all on blaming Asuryan for not lowering the ban on speaking with the Eldar, Khaine on mandating the ban in the first place, Lileath for not thinking to come to her own mother or father first before uttering the words that had started all this, and herself for not speaking up when she'd seen the direction too many of her distant children were taking. All she had left was the grim determination that, even were it her time to die, at least it would be at the side of her husband and daughter.**

The tech priest pushed the button on his left peck and a male voice said, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Angron let out a "Hear, hear."  
**  
Isha's gaze shifted to where Morai-Heg and Asuryan were deep in discussion. Though she couldn't see his face behind his mask, the heavy frown on her face said enough of what they could be talking about.**

**A bit further past them, standing silently with his last weapon at hand and the manacles he'd been bound with still dangling from his wrists, Vaul looked… well, her twin god looked about as good as Isha and Kurnous had before Vaul had gotten them away from Khaine. Which wasn't very. Isha considered whether he would accept her help, but… it had been so long, and she had done nothing to free him after he'd done so for her, the same way she'd done nothing about so many other injustices.**

The Emperor sighed. The Eldar gods were the only beings who bore the title of god that he could honestly say he could tolerate. He didn't like any being who called themselves a god, but at least the Eldar gods knew the danger of chaos and tried to fight it.  
**  
And Cegorach...the trickster god was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't responded to Asuryan's summons, and Isha doubted he was going to. And that might have been the wisest decision any of them had made in millions of years. Wherever he might be, it was well hidden enough that he might even stand a chance of surviving the aftermath of this disaster. She only hoped he looked after the Eldar in her absence.**

**"It's almost time," Lileath whispered, Isha turning to see her daughter with her head bowed, eyes closed and mouth twisted into a grimace. "Mother, I never wanted any of this..."**

**"I know, my dearest, and no one blames you for this. Your siblings…" Isha hesitated, knowing the comforting smile she was trying to maintain was flagging even as she made herself continue. "They made their own choices, in the end, and we made ours. We will all get through this in the end."**

**"You might," Lileath replied, almost too quiet to hear, and Isha found she had no answer.**

**Kurnous moved to stand next to their daughter, one hand resting against Lileath's cheek while he whispered the comfort Isha couldn't, and Isha found her forced smile softening into something a bit more heartfelt. If only they could be like this forever, just the three of them - the thought curled up in her chest, tight and burning, and for a moment she thought she was about to cry, only to reach up and feel dry cheeks. She frowned as the tension in her chest built, hands moving to clutch at the building phantom pain.**

**This feeling wasn't coming from her. This was-**

**"It's here."**

**The Warp buckled and screamed.**

The scene of Slannesh being born was very epic and awe inspiring.  
**  
And Isha's universe was pain.**

**It was like someone had torn open her chest with both great haste and deliberate care, hands reaching in and plucking out her insides until she was nothing but a hollow simulacra of herself. She didn't even remember collapsing to her knees, just that one moment she had been fine and the next -**

**Agony.**

**She distantly heard someone screaming, though it took her too long to recognize it was her own voice. Which was sort of funny, because she felt like she couldn't breathe, throat choking on tears for each and every last one of the quadrillions who had died and were dying and were doomed to die without protection, each one of their names barely registering in her conscious before they were drawn into the voracious maw of the youngest god to fuel their rampage. Their voices whispered in her ears and dragged along her skin, lighting up already frayed nerves as they begged for survival and mercy they wouldn't get.**

**"Your rampage ends here, whelpling."**

**She forced herself to look up, the youngest god a horrifically perfect fusion of all the other gods they'd consumed while she was unable to do anything in her agony, swinging Asuryan's own weapon with a careless ease against Khaine's bloody fury and holding their ground. The other gods' bodies were in various states of dismemberment, all their chests torn open literally where hers was still figurative.**

The sight of the slaughter was horrorfing. Many of the Primarchs had to hold back the vomit, while the Tech Priest grabbed a trash can and let loose a slew of vomit ice cubes. The more stoic primarchs and the Emperor adopted looks of horror and disgust.  
**  
Another claw brushed against her cheek, and Isha startled as she realized the voices she'd been hearing weren't just those of the dying, but the already damned as well. The parodies of her children giggled and mockingly cooed as they surrounded her, taking turns wiping her tears away and consuming them with great relish, or dragging their bodies along the increasingly visible scraps of skin as they almost tenderly tore her armor and clothing away to get to her naked flesh.**

The tech priest looked at the screen, and if he had skin it would be green from his recent vomiting but also blushing.  
**  
One nibbled and bit at her throat, and she screamed again, throwing all of them away with warp vines while she tried to find the energy to get to her feet. The daemonettes were unphased, laughing with glee as they scrambled to their feet and ran around or into her lacking defenses. Those grabbed by the vines looked excited to be sloppily strangled, while the rest pouted as they clung more tightly to her, claws tangling in her clothing and hair and making it obvious that she was going nowhere until their master was done with fighting Khaine.**

Fulgrim was thoroughly disgusted with the Daemons produced by the warp god he would have served.  
**  
How was she not dead yet? She knew how pathetic she must look, unable to even fight off lesser daemons from her prone position. She wouldn't have even noticed while she was blinded by the pain of the youngest's birth and the death of her children, and at least she wouldn't have to continue living with all this pain that refused to fade into blissful numbness. Compared to all the rest, who at least looked like they'd tried to fight, she would have been a laughably easy meal.**

**But they were dead, and she wasn't, and somewhere in her grief she felt the slow, cold grip of terror take hold as she considered what other uses this new god could have for her.**

**"Oh mother," the daemonettes whispered in her ears, voices riding the high of power as all the eldar souls that had served as spark and fuel gave them unbridled confidence. "Please mother, give us more, give us everything."**

Lorgar was troubled by the voices and started to sing hymms. The Emperor allowed it, for he was currently thinking of Margret Thatcher naked on a cold day while the Tech Priest chanted, "Think unsexy thoughts."  
**  
The warp shifted, and Khaine and his opponent barely hesitated a moment in their ongoing battle as three more slowly arrived from their domains in the untraversed reaches of the Warp.**

If Rogal were here he would say something along the lines of, "From bad to worse."  
**  
First came the dark mirror of Khaine, the taste of iron and blood and the clank of armor washing past her as the chaos god of war and his army came to watch the battle unfold. Several daemonettes pulled themselves away from her, throwing themselves almost eagerly onto the blades and moaning with delight as they were cut apart and dissolved into warp stuff to rejoin their master.**

The disgust of the room was palpable.  
**  
Then came the thousand whispering voices, a shifting mass that lowered itself to pick over the remains of Morai-Heg with interest. Eyes formed to stare at her and just as quickly shifted away, looking at all of them and none of them, and she almost felt relieved that it and its equally unconstrained minions seemed so disinterested in her continuing existence.**

Magnus looked worried as he saw Tzeentch pick over Morai-Heg with interest. If Tzeentch had the remains of the crone god he was even more dangerous that previously imagined.  
**  
Last was the wave of rot, giggling rolling balls of unlife that squirmed into the area around her, striking back at the daemonettes that tried to swat them away. The vines withered in the presence of their master, the living infested carcass that made her want to gag as it stifled her and made the remaining daemonettes curl around her defensively.**

**"Pathetic," said Khorne, his voice the rumble of battlefields. "You call yourself a fighter?"**

**"I'm enjoying my game here," replied Slaanesh, throwing their hair back as they parried another strike from Khaine, letting the latter's blade barely scrape across their cheeks and leave a dripping wound, daemonettes eagerly catching the drops even as the wound healed into unblemished skin. "What does it matter how I prefer to spend my time before I eat him?"**

**"If you were competent," said Khorne, "you would not be losing to a defunct god."**

**Slaanesh paused, groaning in pleasure when Khaine took the opportunity to stab through their shoulder. "Ohh, is that a challenge? I would love to get to know your blades, every last one of them~."**

**"Your challenge is accepted," Khorne replied, stepping forward and drawing his own blade. "And your blood will decorate my domain."**

**"Ohh, I like you," Slaanesh said, smile stretching too wide for comfort. "Please, don't stop until you've taken every last drop~."**

The tech priest said, "and thus was the rivalry between Khorne and Slannesh born."  
**  
Khorne moved to strike, only to be stopped by Khaine's blade. The chaos god looked to the eldar god, who looked back with fury.**

**"This is my fight," Khaine interrupted. "I will not be-"**

**Khorne's hand smashed through Khaine's armor, cutting the reply short. Isha's last ember of hope died as Khaine's body was then flung to the side, shattering into a million and more pieces even as Khorne's bloody hand returned to rest against his blade.**

**"...I see," Slaanesh said after a few moments, licking their lips in sudden discomfort. "That's how it's going to be played, then. I don't suppose you'll let me have the first strike?"**

**Khorne's chuckle dragged through Isha's mind like fire as he stepped forward, his first swing meeting Slaanesh's blade and sending the young god flying backwards from the force, right past the now cackling Tzeentch.**

The Imperial family chuckled, and in the Warp Slannesh felt like someone had found embarrassing photos of her.  
**  
"Having trouble there?" Tzeentch called out as Khorne chased after, delighted as Slaanesh scrambled to their feet in a panic just in time to dodge another heavy strike. "Perhaps you'd like some advice?"**

**"I don't need help, I have this completely under- eep- control!"**

**Tzeentch cackled again. Nurgle, still behind her, rumbled with humor as his minions scrambled over her and made faces at the low-key terrified daemonettes still remaining.**

**Isha's head lowered from the weight and from knowing there was no escape - even if Slaanesh were able to somehow win their fight against the older chaos god, they wouldn't have the strength to fight the other two, or the sense to avoid picking a fight, and then…**

**"It'll be alright, mother, just you see," one of the daemonettes said with more cheer than was warranted, but that wasn't what gave Isha sudden pause, her despair shuddering as something else started broiling in the middle of her numbing chest. "Once this is over, we'll all be able to go home, you and us and our beautiful palace of pleasures to live in for ever and ever in bliss and joy!"**

**Isha looked to the daemonette who had spoken, the one who had used her daughter's voice, and saw it wearing her daughter's face.**

The Emperor realized that this was undoubtedly the point of diversion.  
**  
"How dare you."**

**An ember ignited, burning away at the creeping despair and apathy overwhelming her before then. Nurgle stepped back twice, no longer laughing.**

**"How dare you!"**

**The daemonette fell back and stared at her, along with all the others holding onto her as she slowly, painfully forced herself to one knee, and then to her feet, and realized how small it was compared to her and her stoked fury. Tzeentch had stopped laughing as well.**

**"You have no right to her memory!"**

**The daemonette screamed as Isha's life swept up and surrounded it, still having the gall to wear Lileath's face and voice as if it belonged to it, as if it was funny to dangle everything she'd lost in front of her face.**

**"You have no right to her face or her name!" Isha snarled, snapping it apart and taking vindictive satisfaction as it was dissolved into nothing, unable to return to its master.**

The Emperor clapped a bit. It was hard to permenantly destroy a Daemon.  
**  
Isha's satisfaction was short lived, however, when she turned to see all four Chaos gods watching her, various degrees of surprise and annoyance in their expressions. She swallowed, wishing abruptly that she hadn't snapped like that, because now she was interesting, and with four gods who could easily make her as nothing with a single backhand, interesting was the worst position to be in.**

**"Strong words," Tzeentch said, all its eyes now on her. "But not much in terms of execution."**

**"Certainly not words for such a delicate bloom," Nurgle said. "Come now, forget that anger and stay with me in my house, so your weary heart might know the peace of my family."**

**"Heh, the first time she's done anything interesting in her life, and you want to stop her immediately," Khorne said, something almost like admiration in his voice. "Let her fight awhile. I want to see the blood she spills before she falls."**

**Isha was trapped between the three while the fourth watched on. She had nowhere to run, nothing to fight with, and so few followers that she might as well be a joke to them. All it seemed she'd managed to do is add a third interested party into the mix of those fighting over her fate, possibly a fourth if she managed to dig herself into even more trouble in the next few moments.**

**"Of course you do, you barbarian," Tzeentch mocked, one temporary arm waving the war god away. "What's next, you whisk her away to gorge her little plant armies on your rivers of blood?"**

**"If it makes her worthy, then I see no reason not to," Khorne agreed.**

**What could she do? She couldn't choose Slaanesh, not with what they represented and her terrifying imaginings of just what they were saving her for. She refused to give in to Nurgle, knowing she would never escape his garden of rot without outside aide. To trust Khorne was akin to trusting Khaine, especially since she did not know how such an allegiance would twist her in the long term. And Tzeentch… the mere idea of trust was impossible to him, aside from how to exploit it.**

Magnus let out a "Hmm" as Isha perfectly summed up the Chaos Gods.  
**  
"She's mine, Khorne," Nurgle rumbled, all his good humor gone. "It was agreed long ago. And last I checked, treachery was not your domain."**

**"Last I checked, she was too much a pacifist to even think to fight back. Funny how things change."**

**"You all seem to be forgetting something," Slaanesh spoke up, gaze sliding over her in incredibly uncomfortable ways that would have her shaking if she weren't already trembling in fear and anger. "She's Eldar, therefore she's mine."**

The Emperor smiled slightly smugly, for again the true weakness of Chaos was shown. It never worked together.  
**  
To cling to life on her own in the warp, always one step ahead of the four… a short lived fantasy, doomed to soon fall into one of the fates she already knew awaited her. There was no safety in the warp, not anymore.**

**Isha stopped.**

**No safety in the Warp.**

**But there was another place, one which she knew the secrets of traversing and they did not. One which they would struggle to follow her to, at least for a while. All she had to do was find a place they couldn't touch her, and then rebuild her strength, until she reached the point where she could fight back.**

**"Stay out of this if you know what's good for you," Tzeentch said, continuing to watch all of them at once. "We'll probably be a while, so go play with those shards of Khaine or something."**

**"I am your equal!" Slaanesh snapped, raising Asuryan's blade and snarling. "I have every right to defend my property!"**

**She stepped back once, then twice, making herself look small and meek and afraid, which wasn't hard when much of her still felt that way. A few minions of the four gave her looks before their gazes were drawn back to the increasingly snappish argument over her fate, Khorne looking close to ready to start throwing Slaanesh around the Warp again, and Nurgle set to either join him or oppose him.**

**Where could she go, though? She needed a place they and their followers of the warp and materium could not go without consequence. A place where her strength could be recovered unchallenged. Her thoughts drifted to her still surviving children, a mix of grief, fury, and disappointment swirling in her chest as she considered her options.**

**The exodites were far scattered and had little manpower. If it wasn't enough that she might end up favoring one world's culture over others, or worse, snub her hosts by attempting to remain aloof in such dangerous times, the forces she would call upon herself… no, she would search them out only once she was sure she could convince and protect them.**

**The craftworlds were still reeling, trying to figure out what to do in the aftermath of this, and asking them to try and protect her when they didn't even know how to protect or define themselves yet... even if she could guarantee the first wave of Chaos could be fought off, what of the next, or the next? It was better to give them space to grieve what they'd lost and begin adjusting to their new circumstances.**

**The Webway…she would be safe there, especially if she could reach the Black Library. Her fallen children might be a problem, but while her knowledge might not be on par with Cegorach's, Isha knew the Webway better than any mortal alive and could easily avoid the Drukhari. But as she quietly cast her senses about, Isha found no Webway Gate nearby that hadn't been shattered and infested with daemons. Perhaps if she fled to a Craftworld or one of the Exodite planets, she might be able to get through their Webway portal, but Chaos would follow her and even if she escaped them, they would no doubt consume that world and it's inhabitants.**

**She took another three steps back, shaky and fearful and absolutely in line with the pathetic little toy they all saw her as. So she couldn't go to her children. She ignored the small amount of relief she felt at not having to look them in the face so soon after their fall, to smile while wishing she could yell at them and weep over what they'd done to themselves, to know that she could give them hope only to break them all over again if she went to them only to be killed the first time Chaos came to make their claim.**

**What was left, then?**

**...there was one option.**

**Three steps.**

**It could very well mean her end.**

**Two steps.**

**She wouldn't even blame him, really, not after everything done to him and his people by her own.**

**One step.**

**But anything he had to offer, whether refuge, imprisonment, or a clean death, was still vastly more merciful than what she could expect from Chaos.**

**And there.**

**She stopped, looking to the four one last time, feeling the warp around her writhe with their argument. Idly, she wished she could have grabbed her husband's spear or her daughter's staff, but they were at the feet of Slaanesh, and the Chaos god would not take kindly to her taking what they had already claimed as theirs.**

**In the end, she had no other choice.**

**She turned and ran like she never had in her life.**

The Emperor and the Imperial family didn't blame Isha. If they were in her shoes they would run too.  
**  
She heard the squawk of alarm behind her as someone noticed her flight, but she had no energy to waste on anything but pushing herself to her limits, instinct leading her along favorable currents and past snarly storms, all the while using her quickly dwindling essence to snare the armies of Chaos behind herself.**

**Isha could hear the shouts behind her, the four fighting each other as much as they were chasing her, which was the main thing keeping her ahead of their combined fury. It seemed they hadn't realized where she was running, or even they would have forgone their arguments to stop her, giving her a flutter of hope -**

**"Got you~"**

**Isha screamed as a keeper of secrets swept in front of her, pleased to have cut her off for its master, and instincts had her flinging more brambles in its direction. Unlike its lesser kin, it wasn't killed, but it was hindered, giving her a chance to sweep past it and count her seconds until she was in place, even as she felt the four close in around her, a noose that would damn her to oblivion -**

**And then she was out of time. She looked to the armies around her, their masters to a one with murder and worse promised in their gazes for the sheer gall of defying them. Despite her fear, a smile flickered across her lips, some comfort in knowing she had one last trick up her sleeve.**

The Emperor leaned forwards in his seat.  
**  
She took a breath.**

**Reached into herself, pulling on all her remaining reserves.**

**And shoved nearly all of it into creating a jungle of pain and death, her dim core essence obscured among everything else.**

Said Jungle was undeniably cool. The Imperial family's awe at this fact caused similar jungles to invade the domains of the Chaos Gods  
**  
Knowing she had but a few moments, she immediately focused everything she has left on her task, because this was the point where she succeeded or she died, and either way she wouldn't need all this essence, so there was no sense in preserving it anymore. Thought became reality, strands of sugars and molecules and warp stuff weaving into complex chains and then into diversified structures, and within moments she was looking at her own face on a material body she hadn't worn since she was young and the gods were still allowed among their people.**

**The four were tearing her jungle apart, sensing her on the cusp of victory, and she poured what she had left into herself even as she calculated just where and how quickly to throw it to cover the remaining distance in both the warp and the materium. If anything went wrong, she'd still hopefully be in the right system, her very presence announcing itself loudly enough that he could hardly miss it. Though whether he'd be able to get to her before They did if she landed on the wrong world...**

**The odds were still better than anything here, so she breathed the last of herself into her new body and cast it out into the materium, momentarily seeing double as she both dispersed in the warp and woke up in mortal form for the first time in almost forever. The screams of the four followed her as she shot up into the shallows of the warp, the sudden shift in the very way she thought and felt distracting her even as the drag of atmosphere slow her down, bleeding both momentum and the vestiges of the warp off of her.**

**Her first full thought, and her last before impact, was that this was going to hurt.**

**…**

**…**

**...**

**Oh warp, it hurt. Not the way it had before, but enough that moving was out of the question.**

**…**

**The air was dry. Why was it so dry? For some reason, she thought there should have been more water in it.**

**…**

**Had stars always been so bright? It had been so long…**

**…**

**She had to get up, had to make sure she was safe, but even digging her fingers into the grasses and ferns growing between them made her breathing shudder from the pain...**

**…**

**What was that noise? It sounded rather like footsteps…**

**…**

**...rest… yes, that sounded just… fine…**

The video ended and Rogal entered the room holding an ice pack to his head. He then asked, "What'd I miss?"


	33. prince of the eye part 19

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-19#post-62525701

s/13366753/19/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started the next file.

**The Orphans of Time**

The Emperor let out a "hmm" and the tech priest said, "this sounds interesting."

**Maeleum Datum : 013.M33**

**At the edge of the Horusian dominions, where the influence of the Theft of Time waned, laid a realm of madness such as was rarely seen even in the Eye of Terror. The anarchic energies tamed by the thousand infernal clocks of Maeleum could not simply be contained : they had to be pushed back, forced out of the great work's area of effect so that time could function in a normal, linear manner. Chaos loathed the order imposed by Horus and Ahriman's work, and at the borders of the Warmaster's kingdom, that displeasure was made manifest in what the Sons of Horus called the Sundered Tides.**

**There, all the madness that had been exorcised from the Horusian territories was manifested a hundredfold. Unending Warp storms of impossible size and violence roared their unthinking hate. Monsters the size of world blinked into existence or slithered through the ruins of physical laws, before being torn asunder by lightning bolts the size of stars and the color of madness. Among the explorers of the Eye, only one region was known to be more hostile than the Sundered Tides : the Radiant Worlds, where the psychic light of the Astronomican met the Eye of Terror, creating a region of golden, scouring flames where shard-angels did eternal war against the daemonic hordes led by Angron. Those worlds that had been caught within the Tides when the Theft of Time had occurred had suffered the worst, as had the accursed souls that had been trapped on their surface.**

The imperial family was shocked and awed by the Sundered Tides.

**To the Sons of Horus, the Sundered Tides were a convenient side effect of the Theft of Time. Like some grand, cosmic moat, the Tides surrounded their territory, making access all but impossible. The only way for a ship to pass through the Tides was to cross one of the few channels that were open through them, created by the will of particularly powerful Chaos Lords who had managed to impose their vision upon daemon worlds lost to the Tides. All of these lords paid fealty to the Warmaster in one way or another, for Horus would not countenance any other being able to grant passage into his realm. Those who did not soon received envoys from Horus, who offered a choice between submission and destruction. Whether arch-hereteks of the Dark Mechanicum, Daemon Lords risen above their kin by the whim of the Great Game, mortal warlords marked by the Ruinous Powers or Chaos Marines, all had either bent the knee or perished.**

Rogal was already making metal plans to make a similar cosmic moat around the solar system.

**But not all denizens of the Sundered Tides dwelled within these small pockets of sustained reality. Despite everything, life still clung to the daemon worlds lost to the Tides, broken and paradoxical as it might be. And where the sane man would have seen only death and ruin, some of the Eye's mad lords saw opportunity. In the grand cathedrals of Sicarius, the sons of Lorgar looked at the Sundered Tides, and saw what they imagined the wrath of the Gods to look like. To the Dark Council and its Apostles, the Theft of Time had been nothing short of a blasphemy : an attempt by mortal minds, however exalted, to impose their will upon the rightful kingdom of the Gods.**

The tech priest said, "Life finds a way."

**And so it was that a Host of Word Bearers was secretly dispatched to the Sundered Tides, to find out how to harvest their great power for the glory of the Pantheon. Though its Primarch was in self-imposed exile within his Templum Inficio, the Seventeenth Legion had not forgotten the humiliation dealt to them by Horus at the end of the Legion Wars. Morgana was beyond their reach – not only had Lorgar given his word, but the woman had vanished hundreds of years ago – but there were many Word Bearers who hungered for revenge on Horus and his allies. This, combined with their fanatical devotion to Chaos, made the Host willing to plunge into the Sundered Tides.**

The tech priest noted, "Fanatics charge in where angels and fools fear to tread." The Emperor said, "SO TRUE."

**Even with all the ritual precautions, the chants and ceremonies on every ship, the chaining of thousands of willing sacrifices to the hulls of the vessels and the blessings of eight Dark Apostles in the light of Sicarius' own infernal star, the fleet of the Host took horrendous casualties. Within moments of entering the Tides, a full third of the Host was destroyed, the souls of the sons of Lorgar torn from their flesh just like those of the mortals they had surrounded themselves with.**

**After an undetermined period of time, the remaining ships of the Host located a world within the Sundered Tides. With their hulls battered and every soul aboard them tormented by the endless screaming of the Warp, the captains set course toward that world. Such was the violence of the astral currents that only a single warship managed to avoid crashing into the planet. That warship, the Dominus Dei, was also the one carrying the Host's Dark Apostle, a Colchisian named Nergal Velk. Accompanied by his Corypheus and the few hundred warriors also aboard, the Dark Apostle descended upon the ravaged daemon world, to try and make contact with the Word Bearers who had been aboard the crashed ships.**

**Immediately after making planetfall, the Host came under attack. Nameless, formless creatures hurled themselves at the Word Bearers, and all the abjurations of the Dark Apostle could do nothing to repulse them. These were clearly creatures of the Warp, but of a kind never before encountered by the Seventeenth Legion, nor recorded in any of the sacred texts Nergal could remember. They were Neverborn native to the Sundered Tides, born of the fracturing of time caused by Horus' arrogance. Still, they were similar enough to other daemons for the Word Bearers' weaponry to affect them, and after initial losses taken while trying to bind their attackers, the Host was able to make progress across the daemon world's surface.**

The Emperor was worried, he had never seen these neverborn. Magnus shared his worried, "We've got to figure out a way to counter these creatures should we encounter them."

**One by one, Nergal and his troops reached each of the crashed warships. Those warriors who had survived were added to the ranks of the Host, while those too wounded to follow were ritually sacrificed to the Gods, and the gene-seed of the dead harvested by the Legion's Apothecaries. When the Dark Apostle approached the final crashed warship, it was with a thousand Legionaries at his back and the meaningless, ceaseless whispers of the Neverborn in his ears.**

**As the Host approached the crashed vessel, the distance separating them from their destination was suddenly filled with cracks running through the air itself. The image of the ship shattered into an infinity of pieces, and from the howling void left in its wake came a new horde of daemons. These Neverborn, however, were not incarnated, but fleshless spirits that flowed over the Word Bearers like a great tide. The seals and protections of the warriors' armors could not keep out these strange hellspawns, and every son of Lorgar, from the Dark Apostle himself to the youngest initiate, was forced to his knees as a dozen or more infernal spirits battled for control of his flesh.**

**After what seemed like an eternity of suffering, Nergal was the first to rise back to his feet. The Dark Apostle had imposed his will upon the Neverborn that now swam through his blood and soul, though his body and armor had been hideously merged with one another in the process. His crozius in hand, he went to his brothers, and one by one, he helped them overcome this trial, putting those too weak to reclaim control of their bodies out of their miseries.**

Russ growled, "Possesion."

**The Word Bearers who rose from this had all become Secondborn, in the largest simultaneous creation of such Possessed warriors ever recorded, surpassing even the foundation of the legendary Gal Vorbak in the decades before the Horus Heresy was openly declared. Sharing their flesh with the unique daemons of the Sundered Tides, these warriors were blessed with an innate understanding of the region's unique nature. Under Nergal's command, the Host returned aboard the Dominus Dei. The bridge crew of the ship was replaced by Secondborn volunteers, who were bound to their stations by Dark Tech cybernetics in order for the ship's machine-spirit to be able to navigate the Sundered Tides by using that understanding.**

Lorgar's eyes widened at this. He murmured, "Why do my sons become such hellspawn?"

**On Maleum Datum 013.M33, the warship Dominus Dei emerged from the Sundered Tides and into Horusian territory, bypassing the known channels for traversing the Tides entirely. The dark forge-world of Ingreus, whose arch-heretek had given his loyalty to Horus at the end of the Legion Wars, was caught utterly by surprise as its skies were filled with drop-pods and gunships launched from the Word Bearers' battle-barge. Nearly a thousand Secondborn warriors were unleashed upon the planet, ravaging its industry and plundering its resources while Nergal himself hunted down the arch-heretek and offered him up as sacrifice to the Ruinous Powers.**

**The skitarii and daemon engines of the Dark Mechanicum observed that these warriors displayed strange abilities, never before seen even among other Possessed forces. Each seemingly operated within his own separate time-stream, able to reverse any injury inflicted upon him that did not result into immediate death. Furthermore, they could move through time as well as space, striking from within enemy strongholds by returning to the past after their gates and walls had been breached. The dark magi, unable to process the paradoxical strategies of the foe, were slaughtered by the thousands, while their tech-thralls and servitors were butchered all across the planet.**

The tech priest said something in binary along the lines of, "For all there innovation they cant improvise."

**"We are the wrath of the Gods made manifest, unleashed upon all those who serve the weakling Warmaster. We are the fury of the Sundered Tides, the children of Chaos. Let the will of the Pantheon be done !"**

**From the Dark Apostle Nergal Velk, during the sacking of Ingreus**

**By the time the Sons of Horus responded to Ingreus' cry for help, the Dominus Dei had long since left the system, plunging back into the Sundered Tides with its holds full of plunder and accompanied by several captured Dark Mechanicum ships, each now captained and guided by a Secondborn warrior. From that point on, the daemon worlds on the edge of Horusian territory were subjected to raids from within the Sundered Tides, the defense it had provided thus far proven ineffective against this new and strange force of the Word Bearers.**

**Not long after that first attack, word of these raids upon Horusian territories reached the Dark Council of Sicarius. Its members were puzzled, for none of them remembered having sent a Host to the Sundered Tides, and their heraldry wasn't recorded in any of the Legion's vast archives. After several weeks of investigation and messages sent to all Hosts of the Legion, it was determined that none of the Hosts had decided to go there on their own either – yet the raids were still happening, led by warriors who bore the colors of the Seventeenth Legion.**

The tech priest played a clip, "Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff."

**So it was that Nergal and his warriors became known as the Orphans of Time, a thorn in the side of the Warmaster that would not be dislodged.**

* * *

next post will be (by popular demand) more Everqueen.


	34. everqueen part two

this was made by Ashynarr

forum/threads/everqueen-warhammer-30k.475460/page-7#post-19570349

s/13442383/2/Everqueen

* * *

The tech priest played the next video, while Rogal tried to comprehend what he missed.

**Malcador liked to consider himself fairly unflappable. He had, after all, managed to reach the lofty and respectable age of 6500 without losing much of his more youthful vigor, especially considering everything he'd had to deal with in keeping up with the man known as Revelation, who had recently refashioned himself as the Emperor of the nascent Imperium of Mankind. He'd seen a lot of both the best and the worst of humanity, as well as the other species of the galaxy, and through that developed an accepting tolerance for the inherent frustration that was dealing with the universe and everything in it.**

Horus noted, "I gotta say, Malcador looks good for his age." The tech priest murmed, "Lucky bastard." The Emperor didn't react to that remark, knowing the tech priest didn't mean anything by it. ****

**Because of this hard-earned talent, he had been trusted to handle organizing what would eventually become the various bureaucratic branches to a galaxy-spanning empire and would eventually allow the slow but needed process of weaning the reunited people off of needing Revelation and Malcador to hold everything together with the metaphorical equivalent of duck tape, bungee cords, a few rubber bands, and a great deal of hope. Despite still being in the early, hiccuping stages, he thought he had been doing fairly well, smoothing over various issues and slips that might have put them behind the projected schedule for that trouble that was set to crop up in a few hundred years that remained frustratingly vague yet ever looming no matter what sort of prodding went into it.**

The Primarch's respect for Malcador increased by this revelation. ****

**Then of course, everything had to go wrong, all because of one warp flare followed by a minor earthquake. And, of course, the psychic shockwave that dampened down into a low, constant thrum that he was damned sure the entire planet could feel.**

**Well, no, technically nothing had gone wrong yet, but Revelation had been gone longer than expected in what should have been an easy enough cleanup of such an obvious Warp event, and there hadn't been any of the usual signs of a drawn out battle that might have indicated something resembling a difficult opponent, which meant Malcador had been left running through the increasingly unlikely possibilities of what the event could have been when he finally got a message.**

Magnus noted, "Considering nothing nice resides in the Warp anymore, I would be worried as well." ****

**Not that 'send a transport with a stretcher over, oh and get some guest rooms prepared' along with some coordinates actually narrowed things down significantly, despite the fact that he could at least glean that whoever - or whatever - Revelation had found during his investigation was someone that required a close eye. Malcador shoved the thoughts to the side temporarily in order to send out the orders, getting to his feet in order to look out the windows of the Imperial base of operations while Earth was brought together.**

The sight of the hive city being restored was rather awe-inspiring. ****

**It was a rather expensive place near the highest point of the Bai-heng hive, on the eastern edge of the Himalazians, as only benefited the Master of Mankind. Of course, all of Revelation's most important works were within the long-established labs and labyrinths burrowed into and throughout the highest peak and its surrounding companions, but for the public front that needed to be presented to both the leery nobles and the overlooked masses, this complex would bear the brunt of the administration and diplomatic efforts until unification was achieved and the official administrative seats were built within the range loftily called 'the crown of the world' since well before he'd been born.**

**Bai-heng also benefited from the arrangement, of course. Being the center of the Imperium meant a large amount of the raw resources being processed were filtered into and through the place, generating more jobs as more people were called on to turn the wealth of resources into everything needed for the burgeoning war machine. Much of the damaged or missing sections of the hive were refurbished or replaced as people worked to restore a glory that had been lost millennia before, piecing together their scattered history while also embracing the Imperial aesthetics that had started gripping the minds and designs of many of the local artisans. There was even the beginnings of the terraforming efforts to be seen along the edge of the hive, a thin band of green that stood out against the desert past it.**

**This burst of wealth, luxury, and uptick in the standard of living, when shown off to other nobles on the edge of throwing in their support, would capture their pockets and their imagination, believing rightly that with time such an improvement in their own state of affairs would come to their seats of power if they threw in their lot with the Emperor. A number of settlements, from the small villages clinging to the barely habitable edges of the nuclear wastelands all the way up to several major hive-cities, had been integrated with minimal effort just by showing them around.**

The Emperor murmured, "IF ONLY MORE PEOPLE WERE REASONABLE LIKE THAT." ****

**Unfortunately, many others saw it, and perhaps fairly, as an arrogant show of wealth, fearful at some hidden price to what seemed like a deal too good to be true or else just determined to take all the hard-earned efforts for themselves. In either case, the Imperial army and the Thunder Warriors served as anvil and hammer to soften up such factions until they bent the knee or, in several unfortunate but necessary cases, were shattered and razed as a warning to the rest.**

**Still, after several decades of dedicated effort, Earth was on its way to unification, with another few decades at most needed to complete the task, get Mars on their side, and get started on bringing the rest of Sol into compliance. It wasn't a bad pace, but still not fast enough to head off the looming threats to humanity out among the distant stars, which was what forced Revelation to look for a better solution to the speed issue. As such, Revelation would often go away for anything from days to months, buried in his labs with the best minds the world had to offer, working on a number of projects to accelerate the pace of things.**

**He felt the warp signatures approach well before he saw the shuttle. Malcador turned away from the window as the shuttle coming in to land on the platform outside. Though in no particular rush, he still managed to wind his way through the halls to the side door opening up to the landing pad just in time for the Emperor to reach the bottom of the shuttle's ramp. The ancient nodded in greeting, not breaking stride as he made his way towards the apartments while the helpers behind him hurried to follow with the stretcher, their positions keeping him from quite seeing who was on it at this angle.**

**"Everything is prepared?" Revelation asked when Malcador fell into step, heading back inside and ignoring the hasty bows of passing workers.**

**"I had them clear out the guest room just a floor down from here, the one towards the west side of the building."**

**"Good. Once we have her settled in, we'll need to discuss potential changes to the plans we had for once we start reaching out to the rest of the galaxy."**

**Any calculations he had on the identity of their mystery guest were promptly thrown out the window. "Who in the world could be so important that you're already considering changing your plans around for them?"**

**"If I'm right," Revelation said in a tone that implied he knew he was while offering over a pict-recorder. "Then the better question to ask might be 'what'."**

**Malcador took the pict-recorder, capturing every detail of the video as it played back. It was obviously being held by one of the first responders to the impact, the recording starting at the edge of the new crater before the woman (based on her voice) peered over the edge with it, into a dusty crater that contrasted greatly with the small oasis of life that had sprung up in the center. Fast counting noted at least half a dozen different blooming plants, several different grasses, at least three creeping vines, and what seemed like the beginnings of two shrubs, all within a small, perfect circle centering on what could only be an eldar woman, bedecked in nothing but the plants growing over her limbs and up her sides, along with the thin coating of debris that had fallen back on her after her landing.**

**No armor, no technology, but still somehow alive in an impact that should have turned her insides into a bloody slurry, and unconsciously growing plants that would have more suited the climate of the area five thousand years ago.**

The Emperor had to admit he was impressed. He started making plans to free Isha at some point in the future. ****

**Malcador stopped the recording. "I wasn't aware of any eldar with such a talent in biomancy."**

**"There wasn't one."**

**Well, that only made everything more ominous. He had a feeling that his nascent headache was only going to get worse once Revelation outright confirmed her identity.**

Rogal noted, "you are right Malcador." Perturabo hit him. ****

**(There was one possibility... an impossible one, but when all other options were exhausted, then whatever was left...)**

The tech priests own respect of Malcador increased by this reference. ****

**Why did the eldar have to make everything more difficult?**

**On the stretcher behind them, the eldar woman whimpered in her sleep.**


	35. prince of the eye part 20

hey folks, I am back. sorry for the late update, but I was off my meds and I am only now back to my normal self.

also, some status updates on my fics, I am nearly done with the next chapter of the warp and wakfu, and am working on my other fics. I am also not gonna have the imperial family review the aftermath CHOA. and this is probably gonna be the only update on this fic for this week, sorry. I will try to get back to my normal update schedule for this fic.

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-20#post-62678725

s/13366753/20/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started up the next holo-vid, and the family watched wondering the next move of Chaos Horus.

**The Battle of the Forge**

Ferrus quirked his eyebrow and asked, "What forge does this mean?" The Emperor paled a bit but stayed silent.  
**  
Maeleum Datum : 142.M33**

**"It is known to the numberless hosts of the Lost and the Damned that the Realms of Chaos are the domain of the Dark Gods. It is known to them that the Four, the Primordial Pantheon, hold sway over the Warp, their dominion challenged only by the false-light of the Corpse-Emperor's Beacon of Pain, a blasphemy that must be avenged. It is known that the Chaos Gods make war upon each other within the Realms as well as the Materium, and that all things are part of that conflict, which is called the Great Game by those who believe themselves champions of Ruin. It is known that Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh divide the Realms between themselves, and that only the psychic equivalents of wastelands and ruins are left to those daemons too weak or strange to fall under the dominion of one of the great Powers.**

**Like so many things the ignorant believe, all of this is false."**

**From the personal writings of the Chaos Sorcerer Ctesias, member of Ahriman's Cabal**

Sanguinius asked Magnus, "Do you know this Ctesias?" Magnus nodded and said, "Yes, but he's dead. He was far too corrupted, and when we swept our legions for traitors he was one of those too far gone to redeem." Magnus was referring to the aftermath of the Imperial Family's viewing of the Horus Heresy video files. This began the purge that saw the deaths of Kor Phareon, Erebus, Typhus and the flight of Fabius Bile. Those who were too far gone were killed whilst those who could be saved were.  
**  
Deep within the Formless Wastes, there was something that, if regarded from the correct angle, might be called a city. In a realm of endlessly changing nightmares, it was a fixed point, an anchor of horror and infernal order. Within its walls, the sounds of hellish construction never stopped, producing palls of black smoke that covered everything. Billions of souls were held within vast furnaces, their agony fuelling the fires of industry. Outside, immense armies made war upon ashen plains, slaughtering one another for the chance to reach the gates and plead their case to the dread lords of that place of terror, madness, and dark wonders.**

The sight of this realm caused the Tech Priest to wretch, as he despised horrors such as these.  
**  
It was the Forge of Souls, the reflection of every workshop where a weapon of war and murder had ever been made. For countless aeons, the Forge had stood, beyond the greedy reach of even the Dark Gods themselves, and its denizens had crafted countless daemonic weapons and war engines that had been used to make the galaxy bleed. From daemonblades to mighty Chaos Titans, the Forge of Souls was the source of a nigh-infinite number of horrors unleashed upon the stars. Legends claimed that the Forge had come into being when the first Old One, that ancient race that had ruled the galaxy before the Eldars had even risen from the primordial muck, had reached into the Empyrean to use its energies in order to craft the first psychic weapon. Other tales linked the genesis of the Forge of Souls to the first motions of the Great Game, when a cadre of potent daemons rebelled against their masters and sought to create their own kingdom.**

Fulgrim turned to his father and asked, "Do you know the origins of that place?" The Emperor nodded, "IT WAS ACTUALLY MADE BY THE OLD ONES DURING THE WAR IN HEAVEN, AND WAS CLAIMED BY THE MINOR CHAOS GOD HASHUT WHEN THE GREAT GAME STARTED. LIKE MALAL, HASHUT NO LONGER EXISTS, BUT THE FORGE IS STILL A THREAT."  
**  
Since time beyond memory, the enigmatic Masters of the Forge, entities of great power and cunning, had ruled over the Forge of Souls, brokering deals with the daemons who reached their gates and the mortal engineers who sought to create daemon engines in the Materium. During all that time, the Forge of Souls had remained free of any of the Dark Gods' attempted invasions through the power of the Iron Pact. Alone in the Empyrean, the Masters knew the secret of the Soul Grinders' creation, these vast, terrible engines of war through which a particular daemon might return to the Materium before its period of banishment had expired. With that knowledge, they forced any daemon who sought to become part of a Soul Grinder to swear three binding Oaths.**

The Emperor sighed, "THE SOUL GRINDERS ARE THE MAIN REASON THE FORGE IS A THREAT. COMPARED TO THE SOUL GRINDERS, DAEMON ENGINES ARE A MINOR ANNOYANCE." Lion was confused and was the first to voice the question everyone currently had, "Why are these soul grinders such a threat?" The Emperor explained, "A SOUL GRINDER ALLOWS A DAEMON TO RETURN FROM BANISHMENT WITHOUT HAVING TO WAIT THE USUAL THOUSAND YEARS." This caught the room off-guard, but they decided to wait. Maybe the video would explain why Soul Grinders didn't seem to appear more often.  
**  
The first two of these Oaths offered all souls reapt by the daemon and all metal from the engines they destroyed belonged to the Forge, dragged there by the tides of the Warp. The third and final Oath compelled the Soul Grinders to come to the Forge's defense, discarding all previous allegiances, should any of the Ruinous Powers attempt to claim sole dominion over the Forge through conquest. Between the might of the Forge and the vast number of Soul Grinders, the Masters had been able to protect their independence, and the would-be conquests of Daemon Lords had become little more than opportunity for them to test their more destructive inventions.**

Rogal, as blunt and obvious as ever said, "So that's why the gods aren't deploying vast armies of these soul grinders." Perturabo hit him yet again.  
**  
To the Masters, the tides of the Great Game of Chaos were little more than distractions. But even they had noticed when, in an unprecedented show of unity, the Four had appointed one champion, elevating him above all of their mortal pawns and plenty of their immortal servants. The Heresy had given the Forge plenty of opportunities, as hereteks of the Dark Mechanicum learned the secrets of daemonic binding and the construction of daemon engines, and Techmarines became Warpsmiths. A vast bounty of souls and metal had flowed into the Forge of Souls as world after world burned, and the Masters had seemed pleased to their terrified minions.**

**So it was that, when Horus Lupercal, Warmaster of Chaos and Prince of the Eye, came to the ashen plains and made his way toward the gates of the Forge of Souls, the Masters took note.**

**The Primarch had come alone, with his Talon on one hand and Worldbreaker in the other, and the warring armies parted before him. Even the most blood-crazed Khornate Neverborn could feel the dark power radiating from Horus, and feared him. Unopposed, he came to the gates of the Forge of Souls, which for the first time in infernal memory opened as soon as he reached them, instead of making him wait upon the Masters' pleasure as had all other supplicants before him.**

**As the gates of the Forge of Souls, wrought out of black metal and embedded with sanity-blasting images, closed behind the Warmaster, the daemonic legions looked upon one another, the truce that had fallen upon the plains with Horus' arrival growing more and more tense. But instead of falling upon each other again, they turned toward the Forge's gates, and waited, driven by impulses they could not understand. For the first time since its foundation, the ashen plains around the Forge of Souls were silent, while inside, Horus Lupercal met with the Masters.  
**  
If Rogal were not dazed he would have said what the room was thinking, "This is the calm before the storm."  
**  
"Honored Masters of the Forge, I have come to offer you a simple choice. For too long you have remained here, hiding behind your walls, reaping the profits of a war you refuse to take directly part in. This will change. You may become pacted to me, and swear your allegiance to my cause – the destruction of the Imperium the one you call Anathema deceived me and my brothers into building for Him with our blood and sacrifice. I will grant you places of honor and power within my kingdom, and let you keep control of this Forge as you have before.**

**If you refuse, I shall cast down your walls, cast you out of your domain, and claim the Forge of Souls, that it might serve the Long War. The choice is yours."**

**Horus Lupercal to the Masters of the Forge**

Rogal recovered and said, "While its a good deal, the masters are probably too arrogant to accept the deal." This time Ferrus hit Rogal. ****

**When the Masters predictably rejected Horus' offer, the Warmaster brought Worldbreaker down, the impact of the weapon a signal that activated his real plan. At the edges of the ashen plains, where the small bubble of stability surrounding the Forge met the Formless Wastes, portals opened leading to select locations in the Eye of Terror with strong sympathetic connections to that eternal battlefield. Four such portals opened, one at each cardinal point, with the chamber where Horus stood before the Masters at the center.**

The tech priest pushed his button and a strange gremlin voice said, "Its fight time!"  
**  
Through potent sorceries and by using the vast power contained within Horus' mortal body as a guide through the tides of the Warp, the Cabalites had created paths through which the armies of the Warmaster may reach deep within the Warp itself, and make war upon daemons in the Immaterium itself. Every warrior participating in this attack had had his armor covered in ritual sigils designed by Ahriman himself to protect their flesh and soul from the corrosive effects of the Warp – for even though the Forge of Souls was one of the Realms of Chaos' most stable areas, it was still utterly hostile to mortal life. Cabalite Sorcerers accompanied each of the four hosts that passed through the portals, and immediately set upon the task of binding the stunned daemonic legions to their will.**

**From the northern portal came the Justaerin, clad in Terminator armor, led by Abaddon himself. A hundred of the Sons of Horus' greatest warriors, and he who was considered by many to be Horus' truest son. During the days of the Legion Wars, many of the Justaerin had willingly given themselves to Neverborn, becoming Possessed in order to fight better for their Primarch. Now, within the Realms of Chaos, their infernal companions helped them adapt to their unholy surroundings more quickly than any of the other forces. Abaddon himself, though he was not Secondborn, nonetheless was the first to recover from the transition from the mustering field to the ashen plains. With his trusted brother and fellow Mournival member Falkus Kibre at his side, the First Captain of the Sixteenth Legion led the charge toward the walls of the Forge of Souls.**

Horus was filled with a strange mixture of pride and shame. Pride at Abbadon truly being worthy of his high position, but shame at the circumstances that made him feel proud of his son.  
**  
From the eastern portal came the Fallen, led by Vortigern, first among the Lion's renegade sons within Horus' armies. Armed with sorcerous blades and secret knowledge gleaned from the archives of Caliban's Order before the planet's destruction, they burned a path through the wastes. The substance of the Warp reacted to their presence immediately, and shadowy figures with wings of black appeared above them, silently observing as Vortigern and his brothers advanced. Nearly every Fallen had one such figure hovering above him, and though they could see them as well as anyone else, they did not react to their presence in any way. The Cabalites accompanying the Fallen paused at the sight of these watchers, until Ahriman, who had chosen for reasons of his own to accompany the Dark Angels renegades into this assault, commanded them to focus their attention on the infernal hordes that laid between them and their target.**

Lion was horrified at these things the warp had forged that followed his fallen sons.  
**  
From the western gateway came a contingent of Night Lords, belonging to that faction of the Eighth Legion which had embraced the powers of Chaos and turned its back on the Long War. Despite this seeming lack of dedication to his greater goals, Horus had called for their participation in this endeavour, offering both a sizeable tribute and tangling the opportunity for glory and plunder before their eyes. A flock of Raptors and Warp Talons flew from the gate, led by the recently ascended Daemon Prince Krieg Acerbus, once a member of the Kyroptera. Like few mortals before him, Acerbus had ascended to daemonhood not through the patronage of any of the Four, but by his sheer depravity and pursuit of fear and atrocity, elevating himself to such heights of horror that he had earned the approval of each of the Dark Gods in turn.  
**  
Konrad remembered his own purge of traitors, while letting Fulgrim save those of his legion that could be saved. He had fought Kreig, and the Axemaster had ascended mid battle, forcing Konrad to merely banish him. ****

**"Take him. If he doesn't come back, then all the better."**

**Zso Sahaal, to Horus Lupercal regarding Acerbus Krieg, before the Battle of the Forges  
**  
Konrad was happy that Zso Sahaal could be saved. ****

**Finally, the southern portal let through a host of mechanized horrors that had never seen the inside of the Forge of Souls, driven into battle by Iron Warriors overseers and Warpsmiths. For centuries, the Iron Warriors had sought to master the creation of daemon engines, and the bitter sons of Perturabo had refused to depend upon any other power. It had taken them hundreds of years of often disastrous failures, but eventually, through trial and error and sheer stubbornness, they had succeeded, and now their creations were let loose upon the Forge of Souls. As the daemon engines charged, the Warpsmiths looked upon the wreckage covering the ashen plains, seeing the ruins of aeons of war, and their hearts were filled with hunger for the secrets that laid buried there. Yet they remained focused on the goal ahead, for they had been appointed their task by Perturabo himself.**

Perturabo didn't know how to feel about this.  
**  
Facing Horus and his armies, the Masters laughed, confident that they would crush this attempted takeover as they had all previous ones. They activated the Iron Pact, calling upon the Soul Grinders to join the defense of the Forge of Souls. Swiftly, however, their assurance turned to shock and horror, as the Soul Grinders did not answer their summons.**

Magnus was intrigued by this.  
**  
It was only then that the Masters realized their mistake. The Iron Pact only compelled the Soul Grinders to come should one of the Ruinous Powers attempt to claim sole control of the Forge of Souls. Horus Lupercal was not a servant of any of the Four, and this attack had for goal to seize the Forge for his own ends rather than those of the Dark Gods. By the wording of the Pact, the Soul Grinders could not be summoned, and even if the mighty daemon engines had been willing to abandon their current campaigns to come to the Forge's aid, they could not be brought across the Immaterium without the power of the Iron Pact backing their summoning.**

Russ actually chuckled a bit at this.  
**  
Worse, the infernal legions fighting for access to the Forge of Souls had always taken part in its defense as well, turning upon the invading armies of rival Powers, both to deny them the Forge and to earn the Masters' favor. But now, the Cabalites were instead binding these armies into their service, using words of power granted unto them by Horus himself prior to the attack. The forces Horus had brought across, while mighty, would never have been enough to conquer the immensity of the Forge of Souls. But the four warbands were but the spear point of a daemonic horde beyond any that the Materium had ever seen, save perhaps in the darkest days of the Fall and the Heresy.**

**Enraged as they realized the scope of Horus' scheme, the Masters turned upon the Warmaster in their midst. Fury outweighing caution, they threw their power against that of the Prince of the Eye, unleashing sorceries they had not employed since long before Slaanesh had been but a glimpse of possibility in the Eldar race's fate. But for all their might and all their lore, the Masters were no match for Horus, who had been the Emperor's finest creation before the Dark Gods had filled him with their power. Even so, the Masters were able to escape, leaving three of their number dead at Horus' hand. Surprisingly, the Warmaster did not give pursuit.  
**  
The scene shifted from the battle outside. ****

**Blood dripped on the floor of the ruined chamber. At the feet of Horus laid the bodies of the Masters of the Forge he had slain.**

**The Warmaster reached out with Worldbreaker and turned one of them on its back, revealing the face that had been kept hidden in shadows and cowls for longer than the human race had existed.**

**Despite the blazing pain at his side, where his wound had once more torn open, Horus raised an eyebrow as he saw the true face of the dead Master.  
**  
The video transitioned away before showing the true face of the master, and Roboute asked his father, "Do you know what the masters look like?" The Emperor just shrugged. ****

**As the Masters fled from their chamber of power, the four warbands and the bound daemonic legions reached the walls of the Forge of Souls. The slaughter was terrible, as the defenders of the Forge, bound to their stations by oaths far more comprehensive than the Iron Pact, unleashed all manner of infernal weaponry upon their foe. But eventually, after what seemed (and might very well have been, for with the Masters' departure the fragile laws of the Forge were eroding quickly) an eternity of fighting, the walls fell and the Forge of Souls was conquered.**

**Horus' lieutenants met the Warmaster in the ruins of what had been the Forge's heart, where he had met and fought the Masters. He congratulated them on a task well done, but their mission here wasn't finished yet. Without the Masters, the Forge of Souls would not last long : as it existed outside the control of any of the Chaos Gods, it required the constant presence of a powerful being to enforce its existence against the tides of the Formless Wastes. Fortunately, Horus had planned for this possibility, knowing there was very little chance that the proud Masters would kneel to him.**

Horus wondered how his counterpart was going to harness the power of the forge.  
**  
Since the end of the Legion Wars and the alliance between Horus and Perturabo, the sons of the Lord of Iron had been hard at work. In heart of the Fourth Legion's territories, on the other side of Medrengard's black sun, they had constructed eight pillars imbued with sorcerous properties. Each pillars was thousands of kilometers long, forged of metal and bone inscribed with billions of runes. It had taken a thousand years and untold millions of slaves to construct these pillars, and the arcane calculations that had been required before their construction could even begin had taken the entire processing power of a Dark Mechanicum forge-world for several years. But it had been done.**

**Using his authority and power as both Warmaster of Chaos and conqueror of the Forge of Souls, Horus dragged the entire Forge through the Aether and into the Eye of Terror, anchoring it into place in Medrengard with the eight Pillars of Torment. Like a colossal space station, the Forge hung in the Warp-tainted void of Eyespace, kept from falling apart by the Pillars' great sorcery. From Medrengard came Iron Warriors ships, bearing new overseers for the Forge's industry as well as Perturabo himself, come to accept his brother's gift. In this way did Horus consolidate the loyalty of the Fourth Legion to him, as well as renew the dread and awe of the Eye-born realms for him.**

Perturabo was awed by this.  
**  
Under the management of the Iron Warriors, the Forge of Souls' productivity surpassed that of any Dark Mechanicum forge-world. Convoys of weapons, daemon engines and ammunition left the Iron Warriors territories under heavy escort, delivering supplies to the allies of the Warmaster within the Eye of Terror. Yet most of the Forge's output was dedicated to Perturabo's special projects : the creation of an arsenal of superweapons, to be unleashed at the end of the Long War, when the Traitor Legions at long last broke free of the Eye of Terror to crush the last remnants of an Imperium collapsed on itself. Such were the terms of the pact by which Horus had given the Forge to Perturabo, a compact that, unlike the failed Iron Pact, would not be so easily tricked.**

The video ended, and two questions were left. Where did the surviving masters go and what were they in the first place.


	36. prince of the eye 21

sorry for the schedule slip folks, my new school class is online and the general stress the covid-19 nightmare is causing me caused me to forget about this yesterday. I will try to post on Thursday, but I make no promises.

also the theory the tech priest gives is my theory as to what the masters are, because Zahariel asked for theories on what the masters are and why they hate the eldar. he also asked for what the ambassador is and what lurks at the center of aftermath, but I have no theories on those things (yet).

also I don't know if lion fought the Ix in canon (if the ix even are canon), but here he did.

this story is made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-20#post-63062425

s/13366753/21/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started up the next video, the imperial family hoping for answers to the questions left by the previous video.

**The City of Aftermath**

The Emperor chuckled a bit at the name of the file.  
**  
Maeleum Datum : 175.M33**

**In the years that followed the Battle of the Forge, the Masters who had survived the confrontation with Horus re-emerged from obscurity. They had fled the collapse of their kingdom before Horus had dragged it into the Eye of Terror, but such had been the strength of their ties to the Forge of Souls that they had been caught in the wake of the Warmaster's spell.**

Magnus nodded, he knew full well that sorcery was illegal but he also knew its principles. One of the most fundamental principles was the law of sympathy. The masters had tied themselves to the Forge of Souls, so a spell effecting it would most likely effect them. Also in the words of the tech priest, the Masters would get a debuff because the Forge undoubtedly gave them power.  
**  
One by one the Masters fell, pulled from the Empyrean's depths into the Eye, and were scattered within its ever-shifting borders. On daemon worlds and in the savage wilderness of Eyespace, they descended like burning comets, and the agony they felt must have been terrible indeed.**

Many of the Primarchs smiled at seeing the Masters pain, while the more stoic of them did not show there joy. In the Forge of Souls the Masters felt a chill.  
**  
Trapped in the half-reality of the Eye and cut off from the Forge of Souls, the Masters were much diminished. But they remained potent in a manner usually reserved for Daemon Princes, as those unfortunates who encountered them first soon learned to their cost. Tribes of mutants and wandering warbands were slaughtered as the Masters rose from their fall, full of rage at the Warmaster's victory and conquest of the Forge. The terrified survivors of these groups fell to their knees in awed worship, offering their devotion to the Masters in the hope of surviving.**

Sanguinius was conflicted, he hated mutants but he also hated Daemons. He was happy to see Mutants slaughtered, but felt guilty of approving of any Daemon. Then his hate took precedence as the Mutants became worshipers.  
**  
After cooling their fury in bloodshed, the Masters each individually swore that they would have their revenge upon the upstart Primarch. Though they were separated, they knew that their kin had all been dragged into the Eye. Those who had been found by groups with space-faring capabilities claimed ships of their own, while the Masters stranded on primitive daemon worlds used their knowledge to direct their new slaves into the construction of vessels that were as much driven by sorcery as they were by technology, or employed more esoteric means of journeying the Eye.**

The more technologically advanced primarchs (such as Ferrus and Vulkan) had to admit they were impressed by the ships constructed by the Masters who landed on primitive worlds.  
**  
Despite their overwhelming desire for revenge, the Masters were not blind to the scope of their self-appointed purpose. Horus was the mightiest warlord of the Eye of Terror, and had already proven himself more than the Masters' equal in direct combat. The Masters needed a new place of power, a domain safe from the depredations of the Legions, where they could rebuild their strength and search for ways to claim their revenge and retake what was theirs. There were many such places in the Eye, but most were already under the control of one of the Traitor Legions, or another of the powers that the Masters had no desire to provoke so soon after their arrival. Instead, they set their sight upon a place that held much unrealized potential, still under the radar of the Eye's greater powers. Though only a handful made contact with one another, aeons of working as one within the Forge of Souls had made the Masters similar enough that they all eventually chose the same target.**

Magnus mentally noted that this was probably the result of the law of sympathy again.  
**  
So it was that, one by one, the Masters came to Aftermath. Located at one of the ends of the Warp route known as the Cerulean Concourse, Aftermath was an amalgamation of hundreds of cities that had been swallowed by the Warp through disaster or uncontrolled sorcery. Populated by the remnants of these cities' populations and dozens of factions and warbands, Aftermath had been in a state of complete anarchy for its entire existence. This changed with the arrival of the Masters.**

**Through a combination of violence and what, in the Eye of Terror, may be called diplomacy, the Masters quickly conquered Aftermath and divided it up between the ten of them. They ruled through a network of proxies and agents, many of whom had been lords of their own domain before the arrival of the Masters. The Masters themselves were rarely seen, but their chosen enforcers were dreaded throughout the whole of Aftermath – though not as much as the enforcers themselves feared the Masters.**

Many of the more warlike primarchs vowed to try to be more diplomatic. Even Angron did, but in his case it was only to help prove he was better than Chaos.  
**  
The Masters each shaped their territory to their own vision, able for the first time in aeons to do as they pleased rather than as their collective council decided. Some of the Masters sought to rebuild the Forge of Souls' industry, building immense factories where millions toiled endlessly. The ruins of the ancient cities were broken down for material by immense collection engines and gangs of harvesting slaves, and weapons and engines of war were crafted from their remains – though the output of all of Aftermath put together was but a fraction of the Forge of Souls'.**

Ferrus mentally noted that this made, while Rogal stated it out loud which earned him another dope slap from Perturabo.  
**  
Others constructed immense laboratories and universities where the darkest secrets of Chaos were explored by those insane enough to brave them, with the goal of learning a way to defeat Horus. Great libraries were built to house the forbidden lore by which many of the stolen cities had been damned, and scholars came from across the Eye to translate alien knowledge for the Masters. In the University Unspoken, students and teachers alike had their lips sewn shut, while in the Conglomerate College, the brains of those who proved most valuable were added to the grotesque, hyper-intelligent mass held beneath the building. Within the chambers of the Choir of Unveiling, hereteks of all stripes worked to construct new and terrifying devices and warmachines from machine, daemon and flesh – as well as other, less recognizable materials.**

Magnus was horrified at how the Masters had perverted the very process of learning.  
**  
In the ruins of a city that the Masters said had belonged to a species called "Necrontyrs", a great market was assembled, where the plunder of the stolen cities was displayed alongside the finds of a thousand explorers throughout the Eye of Terror. All manners of currencies and trade were accepted there, with the Master overseeing this Bazaar taking its cut out of every transaction, this taxation ruthlessly enforced by agents armed well enough to deal with the Eye's denizens.**

Jagathai remembered the name Necrontyrys and asked the Emperor, "Father, didn't the Necrontyrs..." The Emperor interrupted him. "BECOME THE NECRONS? YES THEY DID."  
**  
At the edge of Aftermath, vast shipyards were built where ships of designs never before seen were assembled and put to use in the defense of Aftermath from all who would challenge the Masters' rule, with a few surplus ones of lesser quality being sold to the highest bidder. Though the prices demanded by the Master in charge of the shipyards were exorbitant, there were always buyers, for in the Eye of Terror, only a world has more value than the freedom offered by a spaceship.**

**The denizens of Aftermath lived in fear and awe of the Masters. Attempts were made to learn more about them, and though those who got to close to the Masters' secrets soon vanished or were made examples of, some details began to filter down into public knowledge – though whether those were true or lies planted by the Masters remained unknown. Under their cloaks, it was said that the Masters were made of flesh, and that flesh was covered in cold, scaled skin. They possessed psychic powers as well as sorcerous lore, and their psychic might was far greater than that of any mortal psyker. They could see through the eyes of their agents, and speak through them – but doing so invariably burned the body of the unfortunate vessel to ash. They each hid a wound beneath their cloaks, inflicted upon them by Horus Lupercal in the battle of the Forge of Souls.**

The Emperor let out a questioning hum, while Horus felt a mixture of pride and shame. Pride for having wounded these Daemons, and shame for having fallen in so many times and that his corruption was what allowed him to do so.  
**  
Names were also given to the Masters, attributed to them by the masses rather than claimed by the Masters themselves. Eventually, though, the necessities of ruling Aftermath required that there be a way to refer to a specific Master, something that hadn't been needed in the Forge of Souls, where they had all ruled as one. Those names were more akin to titles than names, loosely translated from the language of daemons into the low Gothic dialects that were mostly used by the population of Aftermath. They were based upon a Master's area of influence : the Master controlling the halls of knowledge was known as Master Head, while the one controlling the shipyards was Master Harbor, the one in charge of the factories Master Task, and so on. These names were only used when speaking of the Masters in their absence. What, if anything, the Masters' agents called them when making their reports and taking their orders was something known to them alone.**

Alpharius/Omegon noted, "Names have" "Power as" "Do titles."  
**  
Under the rule of the Masters, Aftermath, which before had been a curiosity and a backwater, became a rising power in the Eye, unaligned in the Great Game of Chaos. The Traitor Legions quickly took notice, and emissaries were sent to Aftermath by the Word Bearers, the Thousand Sons and the Emperor's Children, offering the Masters to join them as a protectorate. The Masters refused all such offers, and decreed that no Chaos Marine was allowed to set foot upon Aftermath, lest they face their wrath. Forced to follow the Masters' rules or risk losing access to Aftermath's bounty, the Traitor Legions worked through mortal intermediaries and agents, sending them to negotiate deals on their behalf while they remained aboard their ships, outside the range of Aftermath's impressive defenses.**

**Apart from the Traitor Legionaries, held at bay to preserve the independence of Aftermath under the Masters' rule, Aftermath welcomed all others, from mortal heretics to mutants to daemons and xenos. The only exception were the Eldars in all their forms, be it Exodite, Craftworlder or denizen of Commoragh. The Masters despised the Children of Isha, for reasons they never deigned to explain, and any such beings discovered in Aftermath were immediately hunted down by their agents and slain on the spot, without trial or interrogation.**

Vulkan felt the same feelings Sanguinius did when he learned of the mutant cults, expect he didn't merge his hatreds like Sanguinius did.  
**  
Aftermath was already the size of a world when the Masters arrived, and it continued to grow after that. New cities continued to arrive, spat out of the storms that surrounded it and cast their baleful illumination upon it in lieu of a sun. These cities drifted through the void, immediately set upon by plunderers in the employ of the Masters, until they crashed into Aftermath and were added to its mass. By the strange laws of the Eye, the atmosphere of these lost cities remained breathable instead of being vented into the void, though asphyxiation would often have been a kinder fate than what awaited the new arrivals.**

**In the Maeleum Datum 175.M33, several years after the Masters' capture of Aftermath, the Warmaster dispatched his own envoys to the amalgam world. Horus had long since learned of the Masters' return, and knew that diplomacy would not serve him here. Nor was the Warmaster willing to spend the resources required to invade Aftermath : the planet was too far from the territory of him and his allies to make holding it a viable option. Destroying it would not only waste its potential but also scatter the Masters anew, forcing them to find a new place from where to scheme, one Horus may not find. Instead, Horus' goal was to undermine the Masters' rule and to make sure that he had his own stake in the power games of Aftermath.**

Horus was saddened to see how similar his corrupted self was to him.  
**  
Once more, the Warmaster's cunning was displayed in the unpredictable way he approached the problem. When the flotilla of the Sixteenth Legion emerged from the storms surrounding Aftermath, the Masters roused the alarm and prepared their defenses, thinking that the Warmaster had come to finish what he had started at the Forge of Souls. But the flotilla hang back, seemingly waiting for something else to happen. Only the crazed scholars of Aftermath's dark universities realized the plan, and then only too late. A few days after the flotilla's arrival, the storms parted once more, revealing not Horusian reinforcements as the Masters' warlords had suspected, but a new city.**

**Before any of the Masters' plunderers could reach it, the Sons of Horus forces fell upon the latest city stolen by the Sea of Souls. There, they were welcomed as saviours and liberators by the Horusian rebels whose actions had triggered the city's doom. The whole city, hundreds of kilometers long, was turned into a stronghold by the Sons of Horus and their allies, with the terrified human population either driven into submission or exterminated.**

Lorgar mumbled something about the fate of chaos cults.  
**  
The defenses of Aftermath could not destroy a target of that size, and the Sixteenth Legion flotilla protected the drifting city until the last stretch of its slow, inevitable journey. Vast void-shields were activated, covering areas of the city from bombardment by the Masters' own ships. Eventually, it slammed into Aftermath's edges, where the forces of the Masters were ready for the attack.**

**But no attack came. Instead, a single servitor emerged, broadcasting a message from Horus himself. The Warmaster declared that this newest region of Aftermath belonged to him, an Embassy through which his will would be made known. His Ambassador – the only name by which the Son of Horus sent to oversee the operation and then the interests of the Sixteenth in Aftermath – was his voice and his hand upon Aftermath. In a show of insults disguised as generosity, Horus granted the Masters their control of the rest of Aftermath, so long as they accepted his Embassy and remained neutral in the conflicts of the Eye of Terror.**

Konrad murmured, "What's his angle?"  
**  
The servitor was obliterated, and the Masters ordered that the border of the new city be sealed. But even with all of the resources under their command, there was simply too much distance to cover. Agents of the Warmaster slipped out and mingled with the crowds of Aftermath, and the Horusians joined the latest front of the Great Game of Chaos. Armies sent beyond the border disappeared, ambushed by Sons of Horus commandos and the augmented mortal soldiers they had created from the descendants of those who had plunged the city into the Warp. Eventually, the deal Horus had offered became reality in practice, even if the Masters never accepted it.**

The tech priest made a joke, "In the grim dark future, there is only politics." Most of the family laughed at that, even if only the Emperor understood the true context.  
**  
As Horus had no doubt expected, the Masters' merciless rule caused rebellion and unrest. Just as Horus had done for the Imperium with his Proclamation, the Ambassador presented himself and Horusian rule as an alternative to the Masters' tyranny. The Masters' hold grew more tenuous as uprisings secretly sponsored by the Horusians multiplied, answered to by crushing force. Aftermath became a battlefield where wars were fought in the shadows of the amalgam-world, all sides of the conflict seeking to preserve the value of what they were fighting over.**

The tech priest pushed his button and played a quote, "As above, so below."  
**  
Other factions beyond the Masters and the Traitor Legions formed in Aftermath. The Ix, a breed of mutants hailing from the Trebedius Sector, had been forced to flee after the Imperium had discovered their inhuman rule over the world of Nebrend. They had brought their capital city, along with the source of their power, the Pit of Fire and Flesh, and proven strong enough to withstand the Masters' initial attempts at subjugating them. A treaty was negotiated allowing the Ix to retain control of their city and their chattel, though the Masters demanded that the Ix' ability to create new members of their kind by plunging mortals into the Pit be heavily restricted in compensation. The Ancients, those mysterious progenitors of the Ix race, agreed to the Masters' demand. Strong beyond mortal measure, the Ix became mercenaries and enforcers for the other factions, prevented by the terms of the treaty to expand their territory beyond their single city. Lineages that had once ruled continents on Nebrend became something akin to crime syndicates, offering protection to those who could afford their rate in wealth, flesh and souls.**

Corax remembered something and asked, "Hey Lion, didn't you fight the Ix?" The primarch of the Dark Angels only nodded.  
**  
The Seraphims, winged agents of Tzeentch, flew from the storms surrounding Aftermath without the need for spacecraft. Twice as tall as mortal men, they took residence within what had once been a spire of an Imperial hive-city, the previous occupants being subjected to unspeakable acts that turned them into mind-broken puppets of the Seraphims. After a few attempts to reclaim the spire ended up in disaster, one of the Masters went there itself. When it emerged several days later, an accord of sorts had been reached : the Seraphims were given the right to the spire and the ability to go through Aftermath unopposed, so long as they did not interfere with the business of the Masters. In the wake of that declaration, the Seraphims began to wander the streets of Aftermath, following the unfathomable errands given onto them by the Changer of Ways. Sometimes, they were accompanied by one of their hollowed servants, to speak in their stead – none living in Aftermath could truthfully claim to have ever heard a Seraphim speak. **

Russ felt uncomfterable with the Seraphims for reasons he couldn't put into words.  
**  
The one known as Zerayah, said by some to be the daughter of Fulgrim, came to Aftermath alone, but did not remain so for long. She – if it was indeed a she – became the center of the Slaaneshi cabals in Aftermath, a figure of worship and adoration. Even the Masters recognized that some of Aftermath's population needed recreation, and so they allowed Zerayah to rule over a host of clubs and houses of pleasure, where the denizens of Aftermath could seek a reprieve from their harsh lives. The cults of the Dark Prince were deeply embedded within this network, drawing many to the worship of Slaanesh. Zerayah sat on her throne atop an empire of vice, surviving all attempts made to remove and replace her. The rumors of her parentage began when a daemonhost of Khorne sought to destroy her and, after the resulting battle left an entire district in ruins, she emerged from the devastation not only alive and victorious, but without a single wound.**

Fulgrim was blushing red. Indeed, where he any redder he could be mistaken for a stop light of the early 21st century.  
**  
There were more. The killing guilds of Ezythios, banished from the Imperium for their worship of murder; the revenant cults of the graveyard-world of Hallow's Mark; the refugee clans of the Rak'gol fleeing from some terrible infighting deep within the xenos' territory … All of these and more came to Aftermath, seeking something they believed they could find in the stolen cities and the small empires that had been built upon their corpses. Both the Masters and the Embassy, along with the envoys of the other powers of the Eye, manipulated them to their own ends – and, sometimes, very rarely, they were manipulated in turn.**

The tech priest pushed his button again, and an old mans voice said, "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."  
**  
None of the Dark Gods could claim Aftermath, but it was certain that Tzeentch was the one who derived the most pleasure from its existence.**

The video ended and Magnus said, "That still doesn't answer what the Masters are." The tech priest let out a sound surprisingly similar to a cell phone alert and said, "My lords, I have a theory on what the Masters might be." The Emperor motioned for the tech priest to continue, "They are the last of the old ones." Before anyone could express disbelief the tech priest continued, "The old ones are described as either lizard or toad like, so that fits the description of the masters. Maybe the Masters were old ones who decided not to do whatever the rest of the old ones did. And it explains why they hate the Eldar, how would you like it if some snot nosed brat claimed your stuff as inheritance while your still alive?" The Emperor nodded, "ITS A POSSIBILITY."


	37. the arrested fall part three

hello there, I am taking a break from everqueen for now. it will be back, and next time it will be the first of its tts episodes. and on the actual tts episodes, I would love to do them, but I don't have the scripts, and I have neither the time or patience to transcribe them myself. if anyone has a copy they could send me, that would be great.

the arrested fall is made by lord lucan

threads/the-arrested-fall-alternative-30k.258722/page-3#post-17521793

* * *

The next file was put in, and many of the primarchs wondered how a slannesh dedicated eldar empire would effect the timeline.

**Faction Two: The Insurgency of Mankind**

The Emperor muttered darkly, and all Eldar in the galaxy suddenly felt as if a second god like entity wanted them dead. It was jarring, especially considering they could tell that this one was opposed to Slannesh. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came.

**"For all the might of their grand armies, the eldar cannot undo what was woken upon Ullanor. Two hundred years in the planning, the insurgency of mankind is like a many-headed hydra; cut off one head, another two shall rise from the ashes. Horus and the Emperor (May his golden thread pass through us all) have kindled rebellion in a million worlds, a thousand empires. Their forces are phantoms in the mist. Our banners are secret, our allies widespread. Though the eldar possess such mighty weapons that they sear the soul to behold, they cannot kill us all. And those worlds they defile, those they destroy, breed hatred amongst our brethren born of inhuman loins, just as readily as they insight further rebellions across the galaxy. The eldar call this a human heresy, but this is not so. If one race can be put to the sword by the empire of false gods, then any can. Unite or perish, smite first or be smote; these are the options left. Humanity chooses to smite!"**

**\- [From the new creedo of the Manifesto Alphus]**

Roboute muttered something about how of course the alpha legion was playing a big part in this rebellion while Alpharius/Omegon had very smug grins. So smug that everyone could tell they had them despite the twin primarchs wearing helmets.

**History:**

**The Insurgency of Mankind began, aptly enough, in the cradle of mankind itself.**

Rogal, in a stunning display of understanding, kept his mouth shut. Perturabo pouted a bit at this, as the joys of hitting Rogal had helped immensely in reducing his hatred at his lot in life.

**The world is known as Terra to humanity, Vul Keighli in certain eldar dialects, and 'Human Habitation Biosphere-1' by Noosphere, the cold and merciless Artificial Intellect that governs the Iron Martians.**

Ferrus was troubled at the mention of the Iron Martians.

**During the Age of Strife, humanity's fledgling empire was sent reeling and shattered when the Iron Men, for reasons unknown to mankind at the time, attacked their worlds, starting with a vicious siege of Terra. In the time of Strife, civilisation collapsed on Terra, falling further than any other settlement of that great empire. Techno-barbarians fought over the ruins, forming their own petty empires across the surface. Elsewhere in the galaxy, humanity and the Iron Men fought to a stalemate over millennia, separate stellar empires barely managing to hold onto their territories in the implacable face of mechanical aggression.**

The understanding Rogal had gained couldn't last forever and he said, "So far the same." Perturabo then hit Rogal.

**After millennia of war, the Iron Martians gave up trying to slay humanity, and withdrew to their Factory Worlds, their goals as enigmatic and inexplicable to mere human minds of meat.* Humanity was bloodied, but unbowed. Humanity continued on in isolated, yet battle-hardened empires across the galaxy. They hoarded what Golden Age Technology they could, and after millennia of isolation, they became insular, caring little for their fellow humans, half a galaxy away. There were renaissances in technology in those times, but without unity, these technologies couldn't proliferate to the wider human species. This worked in the favour of Mankind's rivals, for they had free reign to rule the galaxy as they saw fit, and the human empires paid fealty to the eldar like all the other subjugated xenos of the galaxy.**

Fulgrim was surprised at this last statement and asked the Emperor, "Father, is that true?" The Emperor nodded, "SADLY YES. LUCKILY FOR HUMANITY AND THOSE OTHER XENOS THE ELDAR TURNED INWARD SOON AFTER THE AGE OF STRIFE STARTED."

**But there were some who did not forget. Secret shadow orders of human cultists lingered in human societies across the galaxy, led by strange warrior priests; in the urban myths of mankind, they were called 'Perpetuals', or 'Sensei'. Some attributed these with miraculous powers of healing and reincarnation. They themselves referred to their Cult as The Order of the Hammer. They preached that the eldar were mortal, and that humanity had no need to bow before such tyrannical creatures, for humanity had luminous souls, and that the eldar souls were damned. They also preached that mankind should unite, and not be divided by petty monarchs, who only cared about maintaining what scant power the eldar allowed them to have. No one had ever seen the master of their order, and such was their secrecy, the Order never named Him to others. He was said to be even more powerful than the Perpetuals; even more powerful than an eldar ancient. He was a shifter of shapes, and could pass unseen amongst the worlds of mankind. Those who saw the Order as a mere religious joke mockingly referred to this legendary leader figure as 'the Emperor of Mankind', for this demagogue was obviously pretentious enough to believe he alone could rule mankind.**

Angron asked, "Aren't the sensei those being who.." The Emperor cut him off, "YES. AND I TAKE OFFENSE AT THIS ORDER BEING RELIGEOUS IN NATURE." At this assertation the tech priest prepared to run in case the Emperor freaked out.

**Precisely who this 'Emperor' is or was, is uncertain, but he was a scientist foremost, leaving politicking to his second in command, the genius sorcerer-scholar Malcador.** The Emperor's desire to unite humanity was not some ideal promise made by a religion seeking patrons, but was one he intended to back up with military might.**

The Emperor nodded approvingly and the Tech priest stopped his preparations to run.

**The Order of the Hammer manipulated factions across Terra into building the machinery of war for them. Only when the time was right did the Emperor's minions activate their armies across the planet. These posthuman warlords were devastatingly powerful, and soon conquered the disparate enemy tribes of Terra in fifty short years.**

The screen showed the Thunder Warriors and Custodes fighting Techno-Barbarians.

**Malcador went further. Apparently at the behest of this 'Emperor', Malcador had his pet scientists create for him twenty one magnificent sons. Living avatars of stolen warp power, housed in biologically perfect shells of divine meat, the Primarchs were to be the ultimate generals and living weapons of the fight back against the oppressive eldar.**

While they knew that this was there origin, those primarchs decidedly against the warp (Mortarian and Russ foremost amongst them) were still uncomfortable at this information.

**However, spies for the Eldar King brought word of this blasphemous warp-science, and he lazily sent a force to destroy these creatures. Sensing their approach, Malcador destroyed his labs, and cast the Primarchs across the galaxy. The Eldar assumed they were killed, alongside their mon keigh witch of a father.**

Vulkan spat out a hateful, "Arrogant knife ears." This surprised the tech priest, as it always did when Vulkan expressed his hatred. It just didn't compute to the tech priest that Vulkan was even capable of hate.

**But Malcador and his Perpetuals were not slain. In the confusion, they slipped away off-world. Malcador carried with him a precious cargo; the last two Primarchs. They were a miracle; twins, in a single birth pod. Malcador took this as a sign of favour, and determined to raise them as his own.**

**The twins were named Alpharius ad Omegon, and they were perfect. Malcador raised them on the run, always moving from world to world, never settling. They were not generals, but spymasters. Each of the brothers was a genius, and consumed knowledge at a rate at which even Malcador marvelled. Through their aid, the Order of the Hammer spread across the galaxy. The brothers even created their own Cult of the Hydra, a massive espionage organisation formed around their Alphus manifesto.**

Alpharius and Omegon wore smug grins once more.

**Everything the Perpetuals and the Twins did had to be done in secret, as they had to hide from the Imperial Eldar's sinister secret police force, known only as the Mandrakes. False leads and decoys were constantly in play, evading and confounding the half-daemon eldar huntsmen at every turn.**

The Emperor's power flared, and all the Mandrakes in Aelindrach suddenly felt like they were exposed to sunlight blessed by pure faith in humanity's supremacy.

**Almost every human realm was visited by the Insurgency of Man's cells, alongside some of the more reasonable xenos planets, from the high G words of L'Huraxi, to the monstrous swamps of Groevia, to the foreboding forgeships of the Demiurg. Deals were brokered, oaths sworn, and all the while they were undercover.**

The Emperor felt a bit of shame at the fact that his xenos tolerance laws had come so late, and those worlds where these allied xenos lived (at least those who still lived) experienced boons. Said boons would turn against them if they dared to fight humanity, but none of them would.

**This was to pave the way for the single biggest human mission in the history of the species; the Secret Crusade. The moment the Eldar Civil war began, Malcador and his armies across the galaxy set to work. Their missions were to finally cement their alliances and find the scattered Primarchs.**

**The Aegis Astartes, Malcador's elite and secretive Legions of superhumans, cultivated from his surviving samples of Primarch DNA re-engineered, fought at the vanguard of countless wars during this 200 year crusade. They drove out the chaotic forces of the Diaspora that were ascendant during the chaos of the Eldar Civil war, they routed evil alien tyrants and ork pirates, defended beleaguered colonies from being harvested by Iron Martian Expeditions, and generally attempted to eliminate the most pressing non-eldar threats to their burgeoning alliance. The reason for this was three-fold. First, they could not afford any secondary threats to attack their supply routes during the coming Heresy. Second, their actions showed that the galaxy did not need the eldar to protect them; the space marines could be their shield, and their sword in the grim darkness. Thirdly, and most importantly for the Twins, it gave them a chance to hunt down their brothers, and determine if they still lived.**

The Emperor nodded, but was slightly worried. Had he died in this timeline?

**What they found heartened them more than they could ever express. Their brothers did live, and they had for the most part conquered their local systems,a nd formed empires of their own; empires which readily allied with the Insurrection once the Primarchs were reunited with their Golden Father. Only Angron and the Lion had at first struggled to subdue their birth worlds, for chaos had a strong foothold there and would have eventually destroyed them both. However once their Legions, formed of their geneseed sons, arrived, they crushed all opposition and installed their fathers as masters of their own empires.**

This caused some concertation amongst the Primarchs. For Angron, he was worried that Nuceria had some Chaotic taint, while others were curious about these empires there counterparts had forged.

**Their personal Astartes legions were handed over to each Primarch in turn***, and they began immediately preparing for the coming war. The war plans were devised by the firstborn and most brilliant of the Primarchs, Horus Lupercal.**

Horus was confused, "Do they mean first-found?" Sanguinius commented, "Probably."

**Using the Order of the hammer's Astropathic network, he orchestrated a coordinated galactic rearming strategy, forming the Insurrection into a unified human/xenos alliance the likes of which the galaxy had never seen before. He also brokered the non-aggression pact with the mighty Ork Overfiend, Gharkul Blackfang.**

Horus was once again shamefaced.

**Once the trap at Istvaan V had been sprung, Horus and his brothers passed on the rallying cry to every corner of the galaxy, setting into motion plans two hundred years in the making;**

**"The Eldar have stolen your galaxy from you. They believe themselves immortal. They have forgotten how to die; rise with us, and let us teach them how! Rise! Rise! Rise!"**

The tech priest recorded this line for later usage, specifically the part after the Eldar have stolen the galaxy part.

**Thus began the Human Heresy.**

**Thus began the war, which would see the galaxy burn.**

***(When the Iron Martians return to the field of battle, after the Secret crusade, their targets once more seem random. Why they destroyed hundreds upon hundreds of seemingly barren worlds across the galaxy seemed insane, until we learned later the true nature of the Iron Martians, and their ultimate goals.)**

Corvus stared, "Knowing that the Iron Men almost certainly follow the Void Dragon, it cannot be good for organic life."

**** (There is some debate amongst scholars about the Emperor's actual identity. Some claim Horus was the true master, and the Emperor was a fiction designed to unit mankind. Others claim the Emperor was malcador, again using a figurehead. It is possible, however, that the Emperor really was the superman of myth. Or perhaps Malcador was but one of the many forms the shape-shifting 'Emperor' possessed?)**

The Emperor considered this.

*****The Aegis Astartes Legions were named thus:**

**1\. The Cthonic Wolves – Horus Lupercal**

Sanguinius noted, "I guess they didn't" in reference to his earlier talk with Horus/

**2\. The Blood Angels – Sanguinius**

**3\. The Iron Hands – Ferrus Manus**

**4\. The Gladiators – Angron**

**5\. The Frost Giants – Rogal Dorn**

**6\. The Space Wolves – Leman Russ**

**7\. The Phoenix Guard – Fulgrim**

**8\. The Raven Guard – Corvus Corax**

**9\. The Ultramarines – Roboute Guilliman**

**10\. The Dusk Raiders – Mortarion**

**11\. The White Scars – Jaghati Khan**

**12\. The Dark Angels – Lion El'Jonson**

**13\. The Salamanders – Vulkan**

**14\. The Iron Warriors – Perturabo**

**15\. The Word Bearers – Lorgar**

**16\. The Night Lords – Konrad Kurze**

**17\. The Alpha Legion – Alpharius**

**18\. The Omega Legion – Omegon**

Alpharius/Omegon commented, "I guess" "We get" "Two legions." Meanwhile, Magnus looked slightly worried and asked, "Where am I in all this?" Perturabo said, "You're probably somewhere else." This didn't comfort Magnus, had Tzeentch corrupted this version of him like so many others?

**Forces:**

**The Insurgency has a wild variety of militaries and soldiers to call upon. By far the most elite and power are the Aegis Astartes task forces. Genetically engineered using the remnants of the Primarchs' genetic codes, they are supremely powerful individually, and this is only enhanced by their advanced, Golden Age fighting suits, ships and weaponry, the designs of which were stolen during raids on Iron Martian Manufacturing Planets and subsequently modified by Insurgency scientists, both human and alien.**

**Astartes Aegis armour is a beautiful intermingling of Golden age Technology and over a dozen alien technologies. Each powered suit can fly, possesses exotic banks of sensors, and bear integral internal weapon systems, ranging from mass-reactive bolt missiles, plasma guns, pulse arrays and graviton pulsors. Their gauntlets may spring with energised claws, or retract to allow the marines to wield handheld specialist weapons on a mission by mission basis.**

**Aegis is highly customisable and modular, easily converted into heavy Terminator plate, void-capable Icarus plate, stealthy Hololith plate and oceanic Leviathan plate.**

Many of the more technologically skilled Primarchs decided to take a crack at mass producing this Aegis armor.

**There have been experiments on creating xenos astartes, but these plans are in their infancy by the start of the Human Heresy. However some of the more humanoid xenos have been given customised variants on the Aegis suit, to allow them to contribute to the greater war that now rages across the stars.**

The video ended on the uncomfortable idea of xenos Astartes, and through the modified brain of a roach cam, one of many hidden throughout the Glorianas and other important imperial ships, Fabius Bile spied on the family. It was this spying that allowed him to escape Fulgrim's justice. He chuckled to himself, "Now there's an idea."


	38. prince of the eye 22

sorry again for the schedule slip. I forgot to post yesterday.

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-21#post-63376268

s/13366753/22/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest put in the next video, and an ominious title was shown.

**The Father of Monsters**

Fulgrim knew full well who best earned this title, but desperately hoped it wasn't his son this title referred to.  
**  
Maeleum Datum : 259M33**

**By the time the Legion Wars had ended and the Long War begun, the Traitor Legions had been all but bled dry. The purge of the loyalists within their own ranks, the gruelling campaigns of the Heresy, the slaughters at Beta-Garmon and Terra and a thousand other, unremembered worlds, had left them a pale shadow of their former strength. The Apothecaries of the rebel Legions had been driven to extremities never before contemplated to replenish their decimated ranks, abducting the youths of conquered worlds and brutally transforming them into warriors whose only purpose was to die in the Warmaster's service. Gene-seed had been experimented upon to try and stretch the limits of its growth, resulting in the birth of malformed, insane monsters that could only be used after extensive cybernetic augmentation to make them controllable.**

The family was disgusted by the monsters that were formed, and the tech priest vomited.  
**  
For every success the Apothecaries had found, there had been a dozen gruesome failures. And now, within the Eye of Terror, the Traitor Legions faced extinction once more. Their numbers had been diminished by the Legion Wars, and though those had now guttered down and the Long War had turned into a form where there was less need for Astartes troops, all within the Eye knew that they must find ways to restore their lost numbers. To do otherwise was to risk destruction at the hands of rival Legions, and perhaps even the inability to act when at long last the Imperium collapsed under the weight of its own hypocrisy. The mere thought of having survived so much only to die a slow death over the course of millennia of attrition was unbearable.**

Angron growled, "Its a fitting punishment for those traitors."  
**  
The Apothecaries of the Traitor Legions had made pacts with the Dark Mechanicum and constructed facilities where they could turn boys into more Chaos Marines – but there were precious few untainted children within the Eye. With Dorn's defenses surrounding the Eye of Terror and preventing raiding parties from capturing the children needed, the Apothecaries turned to darker means still, seeking to adapt the sacred process of gene-seed implantation even further so that it may take root within young mutants. Catastrophic failure rates, however, soon drove the Apothecaries to desperation, and their masters to wrath. Faced with many punishments, the least of which was death, the Apothecaries spoke of a name, of one who had displayed mastery over the Emperor's gene-craft greater than any save the Master of Mankind.**

Fulgrim spoke softly, "No it couldn't be."  
**  
They spoke of Fabius Bile, Chief Apothecary of the Emperor's Children.**

Rogal bluntly stated, "It is." Perturabo smacked him, for all but Rogal knew that Fulgrim was just speaking his desperate hope. Out of the corner of his optics the tech priest noticed a roach seem to pay attention to the screen but gave it no mind. For all his fear of bugs he knew that they were a fact of life. If it got closer, now that was a different story  
**  
Bile had last been sighted at Skalathrax, where he had abandoned soon after the arrival of Horus and the end of hostilities between the Third and Twelfth Legions. The Chief Apothecary had departed the planet aboard a single warship, the Pulchritudinous, and had not been seen since.**

**Even Horus, when faced with the failure of his Apothecaries, sent his agents to find the Chief Apothecary and bring him to the Warmaster, so that his expertise may be put to the Prince of the Eye's service. Using daemonic trackers, these agents followed the spore of Bile across the Eye. Beginning at Skalathrax, they recreated the journey the Chief Apothecary had taken more than a thousand years ago. The quest was difficult, for the trail had been muddied – whether by the tides of the Eye, the will of the Gods, or the machinations of Bile himself, the hunters could not tell.**

The Emperor was unable to give an accurate guess himself as to why the trail was mudded.  
**  
For decades, the hunters continued their fruitless hunt. Sometimes, they came upon traces left by Bile's activities : worlds overrun by twisted mutants, or whose population still trembled and fled at the sight of power armor. They found ruins haunted by things that only distantly resembled men, mass graves filled with billions of corpses, and monuments built from the salt of mourning tears. The mark of Bile had been left on these worlds, written in atrocity and genetic coding. It was these discoveries that led to Bile being nicknamed the Father of Monsters among the ranks of those tasked with his capture.**

Fulgrim put his face in his hands, despairing at Fabius's work. Bile was his greatest failure.  
**  
Other times, the hunters dispatched by Horus came into contact with warbands from other Legions, pursuing the same quarry. Bile's expertise was sought by all those with the wherewithal to realize the peril faced by the Traitor Legions in their exile. Most sought to make use of that expertise themselves, but a few wanted to make sure it died with him, consigning the Legions to a slow death that would leave them as the favored champions of the Ruinous Powers.**

Many of the primarchs were conflicted. No matter how much they would love to see the traitor legions die they knew full well that these favored champions would be worse.  
**  
Such encounters rarely ended well, and fresh corpses and atrocities were left atop those caused by Bile himself. But for all the effort and blood shed, the truth was that the hunters were no closer to finding Bile now as they had been when they had begun their quest. It was then, as the Son of Horus leading them was starting to consider returning to Maeleum and face the punishment for his failure, that the ship of the Alpha Legion came. A single vessel, barely entering the range of the hunters' auspex, transmitted a single message : a set of aetheric coordinates that could be used by a Navigator experienced in the Eye of Terror's tides to find a particular location, and a short sentence : "There be the father of monsters."**

Many eyes turned to Alpharius/Omegon (including the roach cam), and the twin primarchs offered only a shrug.  
**  
The allegiance and motives of the Twentieth Legion had always been suspect, and this reeked of a trap. But so desperate were the Sons of Horus that they decided to go to the coordinates anyway. The Navigators and bound daemons that guided the fleet were fed the knowledge that the message had carried, and they followed the path laid down by the sons of the Hydra, abandoning the trail they had followed thus far to no avail. They plunged into the depths of the Eye's eternal storms, and, though the journey was hard and many crew were lost to daemonic manifestations, they eventually reached their destination.**

**The gate to Bile's kingdom was a literal Gate : an ancient Gateway, built by a xenos species long since dead and dragged into the Eye of Terror when the Eldars' folly had birthed the Dark Prince. Slowly turning around a black hole, it was a ring of arcane technology over a thousand kilometers in diameter, a wondrous feat of engineering that spoke of the advancement of its creators. Whatever scientific principles had once enabled the Gate to function had been twisted by the Eye long ago, however. Daemons born of the last nightmarish echoes of the Gate's creators infested the kilometer-wide ring, and the alien technology had been corrupted into a parody of itself.**

The gate was very ominous and awe inspiring.  
**  
Yet despite this, the Gate still worked. A vortex of eldritch energies filled the ring, patterns forming in the endless swirling that caught the souls of several crews foolish enough to look upon it directly. Their bodies fell to dust with a sound akin to a sigh, their spirits ripped from their flesh and cast to whatever doom awaited them within the Gate.**

**As the Sons of Horus came to the Gate, they realized that they hadn't been the only ones told where to find their prey. Ships bearing the heraldry of the Emperor's Children, the Death Guard, the Thousand Sons, the World Eaters and other, lesser factions of the Eye were arriving. The true intention of the Alpha Legion in revealing this location (if the Gate even led to Bile at all) had become obvious, though their motives remained as obscure as ever.  
**  
Alpharius and Omegon were surprised. Not even they could puzzle out the motives of there legion. ****

**"Let the Eye of Terror burn anew, in an inferno lit by the spark of false hope."**

**Anonymous Legionary of the Twentieth Legion  
**  
The tech priest recorded this line for future use. ****

**Half-hearted attempts at communication soon broke down. All of them had come for Bile, and none of them were willing to let the others have him. The flotillas prepared to engage each other, as bloodlust and old hatred overpowered the impulse to do the tactically sensible thing and let the others slaughter each other first. But before the first shot was fired, the Gate pulsed, and a fleet emerged from the vortex. Surprised, the hunters disengaged and unlocked their weapons from one another, turning to face these new arrivals.**

**Leading this new armada was the Pulchritudinous. The venerable cruiser, which had born another name during the halcyon days of the Great Crusade, had changed greatly since its coming to the Eye of Terror. But beneath the fleshy growth and Dark Tech augmentations, its original identifier beacon still pulsed its name to the hunters, who matched it against the records of their data-engines. By contrast, the ships that followed the Pulchritudinous like wolves behind a pack leader were entirely unknown. Their designs clearly originated from Terran standards, but they had deviated far from the original STC blueprints that had been the source of most of the Imperial Army's vessels. Strange weapons and devices were affixed to their hulls, drawing not upon the dark lore of the Warp, but other technological paths that had either been long forgotten or forbidden by the Mechanicum.**

The sight of the chaos corrupted ship sickened the family.  
**  
The fleet was almost a match for all the hunting flotillas combined, and even with its coming there was no chance of the hunters working together against it. At its head was none other than Fabius Bile himself, who stood on the bridge of the Pulchritudinous. The Chief Apothecary of the Third Legion appeared on the screens of the ships that had searched for him, his gaunt face looking even older than it had at the end of the Heresy, his eyes burning with alloyed madness and conviction.  
**  
Fulgrim was horrorfied by the sight of this version of Bile. ****

**"I do not serve Fulgrim, nor any of the other failed Primarchs or the foul entities that control them. I am the Primogenitor of a new race, a New Empire, which will inherit the galaxy long after the Imperium and its enemies have burned down to ash.**

**Welcome to Newgate, cousins. Now, shall we speak business ?"**

**Fabius Bile, during the confrontation at Newgate**

**The images of the crew that showed in the transmission were disturbing. They seemed human, yet not. This was not the alien feyness of the Eldar, whose form was only vaguely similar to Humanity. There was nothing that distinguished these beings from normal humans at a first glance, yet any who looked upon them knew, in their heart of heart, that they were something else. It was a deep, instinctive repulsion, an evolutionary drive to destroy and purge a competitive breed.**

Even on screen, the Primarchs felt this disgust. The Emperor remained stone faced, though wether he was unaffected by this or just did a better job of hiding it was unknown.  
**  
These were the New Men, Bile's latest creations. After Skalathrax and the disaster at the Broken Conclave, the Chief Apothecary had grown disillusioned with the Primarchs and his own kind. After his journey through the Eye, gathering followers and resources while leaving abominations in his wake, the Father of Monsters had discovered Newgate, and raised an empire on the other side – one populated solely by his creations, the New Men he had forged from Humanity's genetic code.**

The Emperor scowled at the appellation of the shaman's term for him being applied to these things.  
**  
With the might of his New Empire's armada behind him, Bile was able to dictate his terms to the hunters. By the time those made it back to their lords, it was easier for them to accept the Father of Monsters' proposal, and a new neutral power appeared in the Eye, though its actual presence was very limited.**

The tech priest once again noted, "In the grim dark future there is only politics."  
**  
A space station was constructed at Newgate, orbiting the same black hole. Aboard it were members of the Consortium, the Apothecaries from various Legions that Bile had gathered to his side during his errance across the Eye of Terror. Named the Fleshmarket, this station became the point of contact between the self-titled New Empire and the rest of the Eye of Terror.**

**In exchange for a bounty in technology and resources, the Consortium helped replenish the diminished ranks of the Traitor Legions. All who could meet its prices were given access to the gene-mills, where machines straight out of the Dark Age of Technology gave birth to thousands of untainted, flash-grown children ready for implantation and indoctrination - both of which could also be performed by the Fleshmarket's facilities.**

Ferrus flexed his hands at the sight of the old tech being misused in such a way.  
**  
Ships of the New Empire regularly passed through the Gate on their way to the Fleshmarket, taking the tributes and bringing supplies and the warriors created in the Empire's own laboratories. While all the Chaos Marines the Consortium produced were created within the Fleshmarket, there were other services available to those with truly extraordinary offerings. Several warlords came to the Fleshmarket as pauper, only to depart with an entire flotilla of New Empire vessels and an army of cloned soldiers, because they had brought something that had caught Bile's attention. Such lavish rewards led to many seeking to earn the Father of Monsters' favor, though few managed to gain it, no matter the lengths they went to in order to secure ancient technology or samples of exotic lifeforms.**

**"Three tonnes of Eldar wraithbone, a technomantic array recovered from Medusa itself, the children of a high-gravity world and a drop of Yu'vath blood, whatever those are supposed to be. I tell you, I have no idea what the Chief Apothecary is up to nowadays."**

**Conversation overheard on the Fleshmarket between two members of the Consortium.  
**  
The Emperor, using his transhuman mind, started puzzling out what could be made from those things. And he had no clue. Not that he would admit that. If asked he would just say it was something bad, which was a safe bet. ****

**There were many who questioned Bile's motives, given his declaration of enmity against both his former Legion and all of the other powers of the Eye. The prevalent theory was that, for all his bluster, the Father of Monsters knew that he could not hold his precious "New Empire" against the combined wrath of the Traitor Legions. The Fleshmarket was a solution to the Traitor Legions' problem, one that no one liked, but, crucially, one they could live with, and one that didn't grant any advantage to a specific Legion. By playing the factions of the Eye against each other, Bile had ensured no one would risk passing through Newgate and launching an invasion of his New Empire.**

Roboute gave a grudging nod at this idea.  
**  
Of course, that didn't stop them from trying to send spies to find out more about the Father of Monsters' mysterious domain and his New Humanity. Trying to use stealth crafts to pass through Newgate was a doomed endeavour, as the Gate's emanations would reveal any ship that crossed it. Instead, the spymasters of the Eye tried to infiltrate operatives aboard the supply ships. Security was tight on the Fleshmarket, as was expected of a place where such valued goods and services were exchanged, but no security was ever truly foolproof, especially in the Eye of Terror. Hundreds of agents made it aboard the New Empire's vessels, vanishing alongside them through Newgate.**

Alpharius/Omegon were smug at this asertation.  
**  
None were ever heard of again. It seemed that the security on the other side of Newgate was even greater, and with no way of obtaining information on what kind of defenses the New Empire was using, the spymasters were forced to resort to brute force in the hope that eventually one of their spies would report something. Even the attempts at summoning daemons and asking them about the New Empire failed, as the Neverborn knew nothing of Bile's creations, reinforcing the idea that Newgate may actually lead beyond the borders of the Eye of Terror.**

This caused the family to be surprised, and in the Warp Tzeentch sent his servants to look for the gate.  
**  
As a result of all this secrecy, the Chaos Marines born from the Fleshmarket were regarded with suspicion by their brethren, who wondered what hidden directives Bile may have implanted deep within their psyches. The best efforts of the Legions' mind-scourges revealed no such thing, which only made those who suspected their presence more paranoid. Yet these reinforcements were too desperately needed, even if the new bloods would forever be kept subservient to the veterans of the Long War, safe for a few exceptions.**

**And so, thousands of new Chaos Marines were added to the ranks of the Traitor Legions, their only memories being of the Eye of Terror and the Long War. Like the recruits that filled the loyalist Legions now, thousands of years after the Siege of Terra, they knew nothing of the Great Crusade and the Heresy but tales passed down by their elders. Their lives were filled with the brutal battlegrounds of the Eye, as this influx of fresh warriors caused rivalries between warbands to re-ignite, though things didn't escalate into a return of the Legion Wars.**

The tech priest muttered, "Through a mirror darkly."  
**  
By a cruel irony that was entirely typical of existence in the Eye, only the Death Guard and the Thousand Sons, two Legions that stood opposed in every way, did not make use of the Fleshmarket. Their unique conditions prevented them from employing the Consortium's services. The Thousand Sons' reserves of gene-seed were all but gone because of the Rubric, and the Death Guards were forbidden from stepping foot aboard the Fleshmarket for entirely different reasons. The sons of the Crimson King used different, altogether more eldritch means of maintaining their decimated numbers, while the servants of the Plague God depended upon sorcery and ritual to make worthy mortals, no matter how corrupted and genetically deviant, ascend to the ranks of the Astartes.**

Magnus and Mortarion shared a look.  
**  
Only a few ever suspected that, perhaps, Bile's purpose in opening the Fleshmarket went beyond simply securing his domain. These scattered souls looked upon the renewed conflict between the Traitor Legions and wondered if maybe, just maybe, the Father of Monsters sought to hasten the destruction he had prophesied ...**

As the video ended the roach cam received it's self destruct code and did it the best way it could. It skittered close to the Tech Priest and ended up smashed under his omnissiahian axe.


	39. the shape of the nightmare to come 3

sorry for the schedule slip (again). on Wednesday I had a fever, and so I have been self-isolating in my room. I am gonna get tested today, and I hope I don't have COVID. I am at a good age to get it apparently (I am 20 years old) but I hope I don't have it. also when I remembered yesterday it was too late.

in honor of a recent review on the first part of it, and because I haven't done it in a while, here's more of the shape of the nightmare to come.

this was made by LordLucan.

/wiki/Story:The_Shape_Of_The_Nightmare_To_Come_50k_section03

* * *

The tech priest put in the next video, and the family prepared for more of what the tech priest had termed "advanced grim dark" (apparently this was a reference to something).

**Section 03: The 'Petty Imperia'**

The Emperor groaned, "HERE COMES DISAPOINTMENT."

**With the collapse of the Astronomicon and the fall of Terra, the Imperium, as previously noted, was shattered utterly. From M43 onwards, even the concept of a united human Empire became nearly impossible, as local powers and selfish megalomaniacs took their moments to strike. No longer was there an Imperium. That monolithic concept had died in the fires of anarchy. From now on, there were merely hundreds of petty Imperia and kingdoms. Some were the size of sectors, others merely consisting of a single world or system. Some of these Imperia claimed authority from Terra, and tried to unify, others abandoned the Imperium, declaring themselves avatars for Him, or even trying to supplant Him entirely. Some maintained the xenophobic stance of the old Imperium, while others grew lax or simply ignored the teachings of the church. Some, such as Ophelia, took their fervour too far.**

Lorgar was shamefaced at how much damage his faith had done. ****

**We must also remember that many, many Imperial worlds simply collapsed, as warp storms cut them off from essential supplies. This was particularly a problem for many hive worlds, who simply starved to death within a couple of years, as their agri worlds severed links with them, through warp storms, or through mad warlords stealing the supplies before they got there.**

Roboute, ever the bureaucrat, was slightly smug at this. ****

**It would take years to explain every Imperium created at this time, and every situation that they entailed. However, I shall endeavour to depict the largest and most influential petty Imperia created (along with monickers created to differentiate between them. In reality, each of the petty Imperia merely called themselves 'The Imperium', as they refused to admit the legitimacy of their rivals).**

Rogal said something along the lines of "How nice of him", and given it lacked any sarcasm it earned him a dope slap from Perturabo. ****

**1) The 'Rogue Trader' Imperium  
**  
Jagathai leaned in, having felt a connection to Rogue Traders because, like him, they explored the frontier.

**The most eastern of the petty Imperia, the Imperium of Gerhed Lussor is possibly the most changed of the Imperia. During the first few decades of utter chaos following the Astronomicon's collapse, the extremely successful Rogue Trader, Lussor, was forced to break warp in the System of Corrin, along with his large, well stocked (and well armed) 'trading fleet'. Lussor was a shrewd and learned man, and the death of all his astropaths told him that the Imperium was no more. He wasted no time with incredulity or shock, but instead set to work.**

Curze had to admit he could admire this man. He hadn't wasted time feeling bad, but made sure that he survived. ****

**He knew that, in order to protect his assets in the wake of the collapse, he needed to form a base of operations, and to acquire territory and property. Corrin would have to do. He made planet fall on Corrin II, a populous hive world and the capital of the system, and discussed various 'protection' deals for the planet, entering negotiations with the Lord Governor's staff and government. His scribes and law-scholars, using complex litigation and jargon, managed to swindle Lussor into the governmental process, insinuating him into the essential position of Defense and culture chamberlain. Over the years, this role branched into other areas, like weapons manufacture and internal security, though he wisely kept the Adeptus Arbites on as enforcers, though now their role expanded to overall system security, rather than just enforcing of Imperial Law. Using his acquired wealth, and his vast resources, he bought the southern Hive spire for himself, and built himself a lavish apartment complex, with extensive grounds.**

Alpharius/Omegon noted that this could easily be used by the Alpha legion. ****

**His ambitions went further, however. When the elections for the next governor came around, two decades later, Lussor was there, patronising a promising candidate for the role. The eventual governor picked was his man, and this gave him unprecedented power on the system. He integrated his fleet with the large fleets of monitors and system defence ships, before using them to secure other worlds in the system (such as the prison moon, orbiting Corrin V). Crucially, Lussor recognised the need for an effective fighting force, beyond the PDF, in order for him to secure territories beyond the Corrin system. Corrin was a roughly average system, except for the fact that, upon Corrin II, a vast Adeptus Mechanicus storage facility was located upon the western continent. Using the corrupted local law, he used his powers to order the storage yards searched. What he found there would alter the course of the 'Rogue Trader' Imperium's history notably. Thousands upon thousands of Corvus pattern suits of space marine power armour. He threatened to have the remaining Tech Priests upon the world destroyed, unless they adapted these suits for human soldiery. They, realising they were cut off from the rest of their brethren, accepted these terms. Pragmatically, Lussor realised he couldn't make perfect human-sized power armour from the suits, so had them combined with elements of carapace armour, in order to mass produce them better.**

Many of the more technologically minded Primarchs were conflicted at this revelation. ****

**However, he still needed bodies to fill. He did not want to deplete the PDF or their reserves, and refused to relinquish his own personal army for this task. Thus, he turned to the dregs of Corrin: the under-hivers of the hive worlds, and the convicts imprisoned upon Corrin V's cold moon. He persuaded many thousands to volunteer, offering pardons, free food, and the prospect of drugs and violence to these hard-bitten killers, in exchange for service. These brutes were trained by the very best soldiers on Corrin, and even the one Astartes upon Lussor's staff, Sergeant Procur of the White Scars. Their were equipped with the cheapest, oldest bolters Lussor could scrounge up (as they were the only one available). Even then, there weren't really enough, so many of the armoured shock troops had to make do with heavy calibre auto guns instead. Worried about loyalty, Lussor devised a cunning strategy. He gave the soldiers lots of combat-enhancing drugs and stimulants. This made them rather strong and fast, and had the added benefit of being rather addictive. These shock troops became dependent upon these drugs, and ensured their constant loyalty. Lussor, ever the rogue, presumptuously called them 'Space Marines'.**

Corax turned to Konrad and said, "You can see the similarities right?" Only the Emperor's glare prevented Konrad from gutting his brother then and there. ****

**Within a few hundred years, the Corrin system Imperium faced a major problem. The reserves of food were running dangerously low, after so many years cut off from any trade with the local agri world. Fortunately, the warp storms had somewhat cleared by this point, and Lussor took this opportunity with both hands. He ordered his fleets to the agri world as swiftly as they could. Led by Locur, he also dispatched his 'space marines' as well. Using a series of short warp jumps, the fleet only took a couple of months to reach the agri world (which normally only took a week to travel too before the collapse of the Emperor's guiding light.)**

Most of the Primarchs were silently thankful for the Astronomicon at this point. ****

**Eventually, they made it to the agri world. Initially the world refused to submit to the 'Imperium', and so Locur led the space marines into battle. The sacking of the world took only a couple of weeks. The borderline psychotic and lethally efficient 'space marines' utterly bested the sparse and inexperienced PDF defenders. The planet was subdued, and trade resumed with Corrin within the year. This was to be the first action amongst many that the 'space marines' of Corrin would undertake. Over the next few decades, the petty Imperium swelled to over twenty five worlds. With this, the size of the Space Marine force expanded too, along with the auxiliary, non-power armoured Army that soon sprang up in their wake, which was used to garrison captured worlds. This empire under Lussor was a profoundly poor one, but was nevertheless ingenious. Any scraps of technology, no matter how bizarre and incomplete, were used by Lussor's captured Adepts, and made into things that could almost be called useful. Remote controlled bombs, converted land speeder chassis, poor-quality programmable robots, and various other bizarre pieces of technology. Everything found a use. He was also open in his recruitment, allowing mutants and scum into his 'Imperial Army', each with their own regiments.**

Many of the more socially minded primarchs were impressed by this. ****

**Thus, a rogue became a ruler, and rebuilt his own little Imperium into something resembling civilisation.**

**2) The 'Ophelian' Imperium  
**  
The tech priest intoned, "Here there be fanatics." The Emperor chuckled a bit at the reference to "Here there be dragons."

**In those dark, chaotic early days of the cataclysm, when the Emperor finally died, it seemed as though the centre of the Imperial Church was ripped out forever, and stamped into the dust. However, the Ecclesiarch managed to flee Terra, even as the daemons began to pour from the Imperial Palace like a vile fanged tide.**

The Emperor and Lorgar both groaned at this. ****

**Though the majority of his fleet were either destroyed in the escape, or were dragged into insanity during the insanely turbulent warp transit, the head of the Ministorum survived, and descended upon Ophelia, the second most holy site in the whole Imperium.**

**War and anarchy tore across the Imperium, and he quickly realised the Imperium needed a rallying point. Thus, the Ecclesiarch, Pius Guia, gathered together all the astropaths that had not been consumed by the sudden loss of their anchor point in the warp, and ordered them to send out a message.**

**This message was a summons to the Adepta Sororitas, ordering all of them, no matter where they were, to return to their spiritual centre. Over the next decade, the Orders made their way back to Ophelia, fighting through the consuming madness and chaos, to get back to their home. Over half of the Sisters of Battle, the militant orders, had died in the terrible wars against the new devourer, and less than half of these survivors, made it back to Ophelia. Most either died in transit, got stranded on isolated worlds, or were otherwise slain by the ravenous monsters that crawled from the depths of madness, the fall of the Imperium emboldening these terrors enough to act.**

The tech priest just commented, "Nuns with guns." This earned him another chuckle from the Emperor. ****

**Yet, still, the Sisters came, and Ophelia was secured. Xenos and demonic forces were driven from the surrounding worlds within short-transit to Ophelia, and an Imperium of roughly thirty worlds was brought under the direct rule of the Ministorum-in-exile. Pius soon declared that his Imperium was the one true Imperium, and only his Imperium truly followed the dictates of the Emperor. He refused to acknowledge the Emperor's death, and merely reformed his Imperium's laws, making them fulfill the rules of the Church much more closely. His Imperium became a theocracy far more strict and powerful, than any Imperium before it. Broken Naval fleets who survived their warp transits, flocked to this new Imperium, and with them came a reasonable amount of Imperial Guardsmen, who were quick to convert to the Ophelian Imperium's new, more pious doctrines.**

Lorgar was obviously angry. ****

**Pathetically grateful to their saviours, the humans upon these worlds swiftly re-converted to the Imperial church. Fanatics clogged the streets of every world, flagellants, doomsayers, ad receptionists filling the air with the fevered sounds of desperate prayers to their dead-god.**

The rage of all the viewers was palpable. No one who saw the sight of the empire of fanatics was not enraged. ****

**Ophelia itself, the vast world-spanning Cathedral, was filled with gibbering and despairing pilgrims and desperate civilians. They all demanded to understand why their god had forsaken them. How could the Emperor lose? Was not humanity the dominant force in the universe? Many Ascensionist cults arose on the Ophelian worlds. They held the view that the Emperor had not died, but had instead ascended to full godhood. The fall of the Imperium was His divine judgement upon Man.**

Magnus noted, "They are partially right." The Emperor sighed in annoyance. ****

**Pius Guia, who had been steadily growing more and more unhinged, latched upon this idea. Canoness Superior Kiralicus, one of the Ecclesiarch's new ruling body, the council of three, recommended caution. Unfortunately, the final member of the council of three was Inquisitor Lord Karamazov, the infamous Pyrophant of Salem Proctor. He agreed with the Ascensionists and the Ecclesiarch, and so the new reforms were passed.**

It wouldn't seem possible, but the room got angrier. The Imperial Family and the tech priest remembered Lord Karamozov, and the fact that he was still alive in this reality made there blood boil. The Tech Priest let out a burst of steam to signify his rage. ****

**The Emperor, hence, had ascended, and He was punishing the decadent Imperium. This was the official view now. The only way to save their souls now, Karamazov declared, was sacrifice, and the punishment of the obvious heretics within their society. Mankind was lax and monstrous, and he had the cure: fire.**

Vulkan, a pyromaniac by nature, was very conflicted. ****

**Across the Imperium, Poius' Sisters, and Karamazov's baying mobs of recently converted Frateris militia, invaded their own worlds, denouncing millions as heretics, before either beating them to death with rods and flails, or dragging them away on the Witch-ships of the Ophelian Imperium.**

Mortarion confusedly asked, "Witch-ships?" ****

**Night and day, Ophelia glowed with a baleful orange light, which played across the towering domes and noble, baroque spires of the holy world, as the furnaces beneath the giant Cathedral blazed near-constantly, as thousands of heretics were shipped in, only to be herded into the cleansing flames one by one. Priests stood on great lecterns either side of the horrific furnaces, babbling some insane rhetoric from the various holy books that Ophelia had hoarded over the millennia. Karamazov personally executed a thousand heretics, his throne of judgement in near constant use.**

The entire room was horrified by these images. ****

**The people of Ophelia, however, did not resist these insane zealots. In fact, many of the most insane Ascensionists threw themselves into the fires, crying hymnals as their bodies blistered and burned to ash.**

The tech priest murmured, "A wise person once said evil is only possible when good men do nothing." ****

**For twenty years, this reign of murderous terror continued. It was said that the process only stopped when a young girl, barely six terran years old, ran to the Ecclesiarch, evading guards, and kissed his feet, in religious adoration. Before he could respond, the girl was shot by a wild-eyed Frateris Militia-man. In a terrible rage, Pius ordered the man's innards boiled, and he was taken away to be executed. The genocide stopped soon after that day, as Pius realised his orders had destroyed even the faithful.**

The Emperor was conflicted, he was glad the priest saw the error of his ways, but at what cost? ****

**He had come to this realisation despairingly late, and the Ophelian Imperium was left severely weak following this period of witch hunts. Almost a third of the population was killed, and the Imperium's industry was terribly understaffed by then.**

Angron chimed a phrase from the old earth age, "Too little, too late." ****

**After another twenty years, the Imperium was still struggling, and it took the Tallarn War to open the new Ecclesiarch Honostorian's eyes to this conspicuous lack of resources.**

**It was in 234.M45, that the Ophelian Imperium first came into conflict with the Tallarn Empire. The Tallarns were located just to the galactic east of the Ophelians. The Tallarns had been a tiny empire under the rule of the original Imperium, and their greatest contribution to it had been merely desert-specialist Imperial Guard regiments. With the loss of the Imperium, Tallarn had survived surprisingly well, having already a small Empire with it's own resources. The lack of an Imperial Tithe for soldiers had allowed them to expand their PDF force far beyond what was once capable. In fact, so much did it expand, that they inevitably developed an active offensive force, and managed to maintain a fleet of star ships, using captured Ad Mech expertise and an abundance of natural resources on one of their periphery colonies, which soon became one giant ship yard.**

The tech priest noticed the usage of the word captured when regarding his order. While he held little love for the order as a whole, the term captured made it sound like they were slaves. That worried him. ****

**The Tallarn believed strongly in the Emperor, but their views were far more traditionalist than Ophelia's radical reforms. Thus, when Tallarn expanded westwards, and encountered Ophelian worlds, they offered these worlds an alternative to Ophelian insanity. Many civilians on these outlying worlds, disgruntled with the massive death toll of the Ophelian regime, openly pleaded to the Tallarn to save them (or so the Tallarn Empire claimed). Thus, when the Sororitas came to put down these revolts, the Tallarn fleets were there to engage them. And so, the war began. The Tallarn vessels were of poor quality, and most of their conscript armies were nowhere near as effective as the highly disciplined Adepta Sororitas. However, the Sororitas had incredibly weak supply lines, and their resources were woefully depleted. It was said at the battle of Caninie, the Sisters fought without bolters, for their supplies of bolter shells were so low. In contrast, the Tallarns had a well developed, and above all, extensive logistic train, with numerous way stations supplying their vessels between each short warp jump. Their ships were cheap and terrible, but numerous, and they overwhelmed the Sisters of Battle. The Ophelians lost sixteen worlds in the war, and were driven back from their former territory. All because of their depleted resources.**

Konrad snarked, "Isn't that the same principle behind the imperial guard?" ****

**Thus, Honostorian instigated his 'heathen levy' reforms. These new Ecclesiarchal Bulls tasked the large Witch-ship fleets to change their tactics. They were to spread out from Ophelian space, and find heathen worlds. The populations of these worlds, due to their heresies, were to be subjugated. However, they would not be offered conversion as a way out. Instead, all non-Ophelian Imperial Cultists, be they Thorians, Haemovores, machine cultists or anyone else, were to be set to work as slaves and serfs. They would work the fields of the surviving Ophelian agri worlds, and they were put to work in the industrial worlds that the Ecclesiarch permitted to be built on worlds within the empire.**

Mortarion was confused, "Again, what are Witch-ships?" ****

**"The Emperor," Honostorian was quoted as saying. "Desires the Imperium be rebuilt in His Divine image. He destroyed the old realm, so shall we rebuild it to His exaltations. Our penance has been paid now in blood and ash. Now, the time of reformation is at hand."**

**Thus began the second phase of the Ophelian Imperium. In many ways, this phase of the Ophelian Imperium was even more terrible than the initial phase. However, that is a story for a later date.**

Lion asked the question everyone was thinking, "How could it get worse than what has happened?" No one was eager to find out. ****

**3) The 'Delphain' Imperiume**

**Lord Inquisitor Delphain was a very powerful Inquisitor, and was leading a vast conglomeration of Imperial forces, in the cleansing of the Carpathis system, when the Astronomicon finally collapsed. Many thousands of his fleet's vessels were lost in the warp, and the rest were spat out somewhere within the Ultima Segmentum. Delphain's astropaths and navigators all died, save for one, named Orichi. Using her talents, Delphain discovered several nearby systems, and he persuaded the Fleet Admiral to make a series of short warp jumps to reach these nearby worlds. Within six months, they had made it to these systems.**

**The Inquisitor dispensed with pleasantries, and instantly seized the Governor's palace of the Capital world, Harken. When he discovered that Harken and its fellow in-system worlds, had all suffered losses of Astropaths, and widespread riots in the streets, he knew something very wrong had happened.**

Corax snarked this time, "There's that famous inquisitor mind at work." ****

**This realisation became more and more evident as M43 continued onwards. For thirteen years, the Inquisitor and his crusade forces desperately fought off constant pirate attacks and xenos incursions, that seemed to be a near constant occurrence across the entire sub sector. As they fought, they unconsciously began to utilise Harken and its systems more and more. Reserves for lost Guardsmen came from within Harkenian PDF ranks, munitions and supplies were gifted by the Governors and provincial Lords of Harken and the outlying worlds in adjacent systems.**

Perturabo squinted and asked, "How is that unconscious?" ****

**The Harken system was always in an unofficial league of governors, even before the death of the Emperor. Whereas before, the inquisitor would have probably destroyed the League due to the potential for subversive behaviour inherent to their league, he now openly encouraged it. The close ties between worlds was utilised to its fullest by the cunning Inquisitor. Using his crusade force of Red Hunters marines, Deathwatch, and vast regiments of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers and Imperial Guardsmen, Delphain kept the League of Planetary Governors (or LPG) relatively intact. However, it became clear that there was no one else coming to relieve the Inquisitor and his forces. The Emperor was dead, and so was his Imperium. Yet, this was not a particularly terrible problem for the pragmatic Delphain. Over years of fighting, the infrastructure of his crusade, and that of the governments of the LPG, had merged significantly. His crusade was divided, fighting on all fronts across the LPG's border's, and many of his generals had agreed to defence contracts with local power magnates and Lords, offering protection I exchange for supplies and limited leadership of the aforementioned provinces.**

**Delphain himself became famous, and many called him the 'breaker', due to a legendary battle on the borders, where the Inquisitor used his thunder hammer to smash the gates of a rebellious city open, allowing his troops to enter the city and slaughter the enemy. When the old Governor of Harken died, it was with popular support that Delphian, flanked by his Red Hunter Astartes bodyguards, entered the central city, and seized the leadership officially. Though the LPG technically was a council of equals, the Harken seat was always the most powerful. With Delphain on the throne, it became clear that this was no longer a mere alliance. It was an empire.**

Fulgrim snarked, "And an imperium is born." ****

**Delphain, intoxicated by his success in crafting a functioning state from the ashes of a shattered Imperium, declared that this was the new Imperium, the sole legitimate power in the Universe. And, in a bold move, he declared himself Holy king, chosen of the Emperor. While the more primitive worlds of his fifty world-Imperium could readily accept this, the more urban hive worlds and agri worlds became uneasy. During this period, there were hundreds of rebellions. Each was easily crushed by the feudal military of Delphain. The largest of these rebellions was led by Orichi, who was declared oracle of the future, and denounced Delphain as Apostate and anti-Emperor. Crucially, she gained the support of a number of Lords on the outskirts, who rallied around her. A large naval engagement over the world of Fancit decided this rebellion, and Orichi was killed during the battle.**

Magnus said, "She is kinda right." ****

**Unified once more, the Delphain Imperium seemed set to maintain itself as a sated power. However, in 444.M45, the now-ancient Delphain finally died. The Vassal-Governors each claimed they should take his place, while the Red Hunters backed Delphain's son, Abar Delphain, as next in line. Unwilling to challenge the dread Astartes, the governors acceded without incident.**

**Abar was young and impetuous. Deluded by the distorted tales of the past Imperium told to him by his father, Abar declared that they must expand into the Galaxy, and re-establish the Imperium. However, he did not take into account the fact most worlds were still recovering from almost a century of civil war.**

**The belligerent King ordered expeditions into neighbouring systems. However, these 'occupations' could never work, as he hadn't the resources for such actions. In the end, these turned into raids and wars of plunder, where greedy former-crusade generals, power magnates and local Lords (who, increasingly, became indistinguishable from each other, so similar in power and prestige the three strata were) would make planet fall on various human and xenos worlds, smash their cities and slaughter hundreds of thousands of people in random, brutal slaughter, rape women and men, burn down perceived 'heathen' churches, and steal all things considered valuable. Abar Delphain allowed this practice, however, as it provided a ready stream of income into his Imperium.**

The tech priest pushed his button and a voice that could only be described as piratey said, "It be too late to alter course, mateys... and there be plundering pirates lurking in every cove" ****

**However, it soon drew the attention of other powerful forces, who soon descended upon this Imperium. This Imperium, which considered itself so very mighty, but who would soon be proven entirely wrong…**

As the video ended, many of the primarchs wondered what this pirate imperium made angry.


	40. prince of the eye 23

I don't have COVID! I am still happy I am well.

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-22#post-64082891

s/13366753/23/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest put in the next holovid  
**  
The Testament of Veritus**

Beeping and computer noises were emmited.  
**  
Verifying credentials … Access granted.**

A servitors voice said this.  
**  
Initiating recording 9257B-9527.**

**Recorded by scribe-servitor designation 698708A "Thot", 270M33, Terra.**

**The Angel came to me in my dreams last night, and told me I would die soon.**

The voice was weary with age.  
**  
This was no surprising revelation to me, of course. I have known of my coming death for a long time, even if I have never let its looming shadow prevent me from doing my duty. But the Angel told me too that it was enough – that I had served, and served well. I need no longer resort to ever-more desperate means of prolonging my life : it is time for me to accept the inevitable, and trust that what we have built will endure even after I pass from this life and into the arms of the God-Emperor.**

The Emperor looked uncomfortable with that, and he knew he safeguarded the souls of mankind. But the tech priests words on the subject echoed in his mind, "You know that makes it harder to refute you as a god, right?"  
**  
I am an old man. I was an old man when this all began, when the galaxy burned and the dream I believed in with all my heart was shattered. I have seen an empire rise, fall, and rise again. I have lived far longer than any mortal man should, and seen far too much. I am tired. So tired. My body is breaking down on a cellular level, rejuvenat treatments no longer able to keep the ravages of time at bay. Half my flesh has been replaced with cybernetic prosthetics designed by the finest artisans of the Mechanicus. But it is not enough. Immortality was not meant for those such as I.**

The tech priest solemnly stated, "The greatest horrors in history have been enacted in pursuit of either immortality or control of life and death."  
**  
And so this is to be my testament. One last confession, dictated to a servitor because I do not even trust my hands to hold a pen anymore. Once I have died, it will be logged into the archives of the Inquisition, where those worthy of knowing the truth may access it.**

**All Inquisitors have secrets. It is part of the weight of our mandated task. But I have a great deal of them even by that standard – more, I believe, than almost any others.**

**Those who think themselves my peers know me as Lastan Neemagiun Veritus, Lord Inquisitor of the Holy Ordos. I have born that name for the longer part of my life, if not the greater one. I took the name of Veritus in the ashes of the Siege of Terra, when the Arch-Traitor and his cohorts fled from the wrath of the Imperium after failing to claim the Throneworld but succeeding in crippling its Master. Before that, before I became one of the first to bear the mantle of Inquisitor, I was known as Kyril Sindermann. I was an iterator of the Great Crusade, tasked with bringing the Imperial Truth to compliant worlds.**

**I was part of the Warmaster's own entourage. I was there when he fell on Davin, and rose anew, filled with corruption none of us could see. I was there when Isstvan III burned at his command, murdering those of his sons he knew would not follow him into rebellion. I saw miracles and horrors untold, in those darkest of days. The man I was died, and someone new rose in his place.**

Horus looked uncomfortable.  
**  
But the tale of the Heresy is not what this is about. There exist records already of that grim era, even if they are fragmentary and incomplete, purged of that knowledge deemed to dangerous to remain. I understand the need for such wilful ignorance – I was there when it was decided. And so, I shall not speak of the days of Horus' rise, of the civil war that tore the Imperium in two.**

**I shall instead speak of what happened after. The history of the Imperium is a maze filled with mist and mirrors, some of it by design, the rest by accident and the sheer passage of time. So much of the past has been replaced by myth and legends, known only to those few of us who lived it and endure. The Imperium is built on a million lies, and I have helped craft many of them. It would be just, I think, for my last deed in this life to be done under the aegis of the Truth I once sought to serve.**

Rogal said, "Ah, we are finally gonna get an in-depth analysis of the imperium in this timeline." Perturabo didn't hit him this time, mainly because of the slight excitement in his voice.  
**  
Let this, then, be the tale of the Imperium after the Siege, after the sons of the Emperor clashed and decided the fate of Humanity. We found ourselves amidst the ruins of the Great Crusade's dream, with the Master of Mankind silent on the Golden Throne and the traitors fleeing.**

**It did not feel like victory.**

**We believed Horus dead. It must seem foolish now, to those Inquisitors who were born in a galaxy in which the consequences of the Proclamation echo forevermore. But we had seen the traitor Warmaster's broken body carried away by his sons, just like the Emperor's own shattered physical form was brought off the Vengeful Spirit by Dorn. We had felt the clash of divine powers in the heavens above Terra as the Master of Mankind battled His renegade progeny. If the Emperor had emerged from this conflict in such a state, how could Horus, for all his infernal might, have survived ?**

Horus sighed, "And I didn't." Many of his brothers looked to Horus who continued on, "I was poisoned on Davin, and I died on Molech. The Warmaster of Chaos wasn't me, not really." The Emperor patted Horus in a "there, there" way.  
**  
The disappearance of the Sons of Horus only reinforced this belief. Remnants of the other Traitor Legions lingered in the galaxy, but of the Sixteenth there was no sign. We took this as proof that their Primarch had died, and that without him, those who had damned themselves in his name no longer had anything left to fight for.**

Horus looked offended, "Ok, now that is insulting. Even corrupted by chaos my sons are not the kind to just fade away. No, they rage against the dying of the light."  
**  
Yet even if Horus was dead, there remained plenty of threats. The Scouring took decades, even with Sanguinius leading the fray, but eventually the last of the Traitor Legions was forced into the Eye of Terror and the last of the tainted worlds was purged of Chaos' vile influence. It was not without cost : billions of lives were lost, either in the conquest of renegade strongholds or in the purges of planets that could not be saved.**

**Even the Primarchs were not spared the cost. Lion El'Jonson, Primarch of the Dark Angels, fell alongside his homeworld of Caliban when elements of the Traitor Legions destroyed the planet in the name of spiteful hatred; and Jaghatai Khan, lord of the White Scars, vanished when he pursued the Dark Eldars that had preyed upon Chogoris during the Heresy.**

Lion and Khan were both melancholy at there respective fates.  
**  
The Inquisition, founded by Malcador the Sigillite, then began its appointed task. The forces of Chaos had been defeated in the field of battle, but such had been necessary only because they had succeeded in turning half the might of the Imperium against itself. It fell to us to keep watch against the Archenemy's pernicious influence – a grim and thankless duty, but a necessary one.**

Many remembered Fydor and all those who disgraced the memory of Malcador.  
**  
And so began the new Age of Imperium. The remaining Primarchs withdrew from the daily running of the Imperium, letting it in the hands of the Council of Terra, where the High Lords gathered. Dorn went to Cadia, the jungle-world that stood before the gate leading into Eye of Terror. The Praetorian remembered his defeat at Perturabo's hands in the Iron Cage, where only the intervention of Sanguinius and Guilliman had prevented his Legion's slaughter. Under his direction, Cadia was remade into a fortress, one that would stand against even the might of the Iron Warriors and the other Traitor Legions, should they ever return.**

Perturabo and Rogal shared a look. Not a glare, but a look.  
**  
Most of the Iron Hands who had survived the Isstvan Atrocity had vanished during the Heresy, cast adrift without clear leadership after the mysterious death of Shadrak Meduson. Guilliman went looking for them, and several years later, he returned with the fragmented forces of the Tenth Legion with him, their oaths of loyalty to the Imperium renewed.**

Ferrus looked to his hands in contemplation.  
**  
Russ returned to Fenris to brood, while Sanguinius left his Legion to take up the mantle of knight-errant and messenger of his father's will across the stars. Vulkan remained on Terra, to help rebuild and then defend it. And Corax … well, the Ravenlord has his secrets, and it is not my place to tell them, not even now.**

Corax raised his eyebrows.  
**  
For over half a millennium, we rebuilt what had been torn down. Much of what was lost in the flames of the Heresy was gone forever : the knowledge of the Mechanicum had been broken in the Martian wars, their priceless libraries set ablaze by the abominations of the rebels.**

The tech priest wept some oil at this. His order wasn't all that inventive, and every single piece of knowledge lost was lost forever. At least until the other tech priests wised up and realized innovation wasn't all that bad.  
**  
Most of all, though, we had lost our innocence. The passage of a few generations was enough for the horrors of the Heresy to fade from memory, for the truth of the Warp and those that dwell within to turn to myth and legend. The Inquisition helped bury the truth, one execution and autodafe at a time. I was there when the decision was made that Mankind was not ready to face the reality of the universe, and it is a decision I stand by to this day, despite its terrible cost.**

Magnus remembered some books the tech priest lent him, some guy named Lovecraft. A recurring theme was that mankind was not able to handle the truth of reality. He thought it a load of hooey, but seeing himself fall time after time made realize that it was the truth.  
**  
But despite these terrible losses, we endured. Planets whose populations had been wiped out were colonized anew. Ruined cities were rebuilt, spires raising atop the buried remnants of civilizations that had weathered the horrors of Old Night only to fall to those of the Heresy. The Imperial Army was broken between the Imperial Guard and the Imperial Navy, and the loyalist Legions no longer gathered in the tens of thousands, instead operating in smaller Chapters more suited to the task of keeping the peace and serving as the spearhead of the Emperor's armies.**

**It was in those days that the Ecclesiarchy rose. I, who had been one of the first preachers of the God-Emperor – despite knowing that the Lectitio Divinatus had been written by none other than Lorgar himself – played a part in its creation. I believed then as I do now that faith in the God-Emperor would be a shield against the depredations of the Ruinous Powers, and for all the destruction caused by failed priests, I remain steadfast in my conviction that it is a cost worth paying. The Primarchs disagreed, of course – how could they not ? I would have worried if they had encouraged the rise of a creed that saw them as demigods and archangels. It is to their credit that they tried to stop us, just as it is that they eventually gave up and accepted the inevitable.**

The Emperor looked proud of his sons (and glared slightly at Lorgar who shrank in shame).  
**  
With the pacification of the galaxy, the rebuilding of the Imperium and the mortar of the Imperial Creed, a golden age began. What threats remained were small : alien forces trying our borders, and minor rebellions sprouting on isolated worlds. The Warp Storms that had raged during the Heresy had vanished, and ships sailed the Sea of Souls with greater ease than, according to the records of the Navigator Houses, had been seen since before the Age of Strife.**

**And then, after over seven centuries of relative peace and prosperity, came the Proclamation.**

**Those who didn't live it cannot imagine the shock it brought us. I myself nearly perished when I heard the news from Cadia, my centuries-old cardiac system shutting down and requiring the immediate aid of my medicae to bring me back from the brink. I shivered in fright when I heard that hateful voice and the lies it carried across the stars.**

Horus would never admit it, but he almost fainted/had a heart attack upon hearing the proclamation.  
**  
But the reaction of the Imperium was much worse. Trapped behind Dorn's walls, Horus had known exactly where to hurt us. The Proclamation did not sunder the Imperium like the Heresy had, but it sent cracks running across its foundations. The High Lords, who had grown used to ruling over a peaceful domain, were terrified at the return of what too many of them had thought to be a mere myth used to justify the power of the Inquisition. I remember hearing cries across the Senatorum Imperialis for negotiations to be opened with the powers of the Eye of Terror, though that particular heresy was but the most shocking of countless traitorous thoughts and plans that were made on Terra in the wake of Lupercal's declaration.**

Konrad started to have some particularly nightmarish thoughts about what to do to the high lords and the politicians.  
**  
In the end, it fell to the Primarchs to restore order. As world after world burned to those of my peers who vainly sought to silence Horus' voice, the sons of the Emperor returned to the Throneworld. They stood in judgement of the High Lords and their squabbling, and found them wanting. The Senatorum Imperialis was purged, with Sanguinius himself leading it as the Emperor's own wrath. I had seen the Angel fight before, yet even I trembled that day.**

Sanguinius paled at the sight of himself slaughtering politicians, but Konrad gained a great respect for his winged brother.  
**  
With order restored on Terra, the commands were sent across the galaxy. The purges were stopped, and renewed focus was given to preventing the rebellion of Imperial worlds. Sanguinius called the Sisters of Silence, who had fallen out of favor after the Scouring, back from their exile.**

The Emperor smirked at this.  
**  
The Inquisition branched out, evolving beyond Malcador's framework. Several Ordos were founded, each focusing on one specific aspect of the threats facing Mankind. I myself am a member of the Ordo Malleus, dedicated to stamping out any and all infernal influence upon the soul of Humanity. Other Ordos include the Ordo Xenos, whose members hunt down alien menaces with the Space Wolves serving as their enforcers and champions. But most importantly in those days, the Ordo Hereticus was created to serve as the hunters of witches and heretics, the latter category now including all those who rejected the rule of the Imperium due to Horus' poisonous demagoguery.**

Rogak said, "Seems the three Ordos got made art the same time in this timeline." This time Perturabo did hit Rogal.  
**  
The Ecclesiarchy's role was also reinforced in the wake of the Proclamation. No longer could we hide the existence of the Traitor Legions, not when the words of Horus echoed in the Empyrean. In a grand conclave, the Imperial Creed itself was modified. Once more I was there, and helped design the new dogma that would hopefully limit the damage caused by the Proclamation. The Traitor Legions were branded as fallen angels, champions of the God-Emperor who had turned from His grace and been corrupted by daemonic powers. As the nine Traitor Legions began to appear across the galaxy once more, we wove stories of their fall, mixing truth and fiction to paint them as pathetic and tragic figures, who had succumbed to the worst impulses of Humanity and in doing so lost the divine spark granted unto them by the God-Emperor.**

Lorgar just said, "There not wrong."  
**  
The loyal Primarchs and their sons did not appreciate this, nor did they the renewed adoration of the Imperial people for them that followed. But they relented again in the end, unwilling (in this as in many other things) to risk a civil war between the Legiones Astartes and the Armies of Faith. There was little doubt that the Space Marines would win such a conflict, but tear the galaxy asunder anew in doing so. Sanguinius especially was displeased, for we framed the Siege of Terra as Horus fleeing from him, the anointed champion of the God-Emperor and inheritor of His wrath.**

**The Proclamation raised many questions, and caused much debates among the ranks of the Inquisition. Not on its veracity, of course – any who dare raise that question as anything else than a devil's argument are promptly executed. But faced with this new approach of the Arch-Traitor, we must ask ourselves : is the tyranny of the Imperium the best way forward ? By enforcing the rule of the God-Emperor with an iron fist, do we not facilitate the very rise of rebellion and heresy ?**

**If Horus were only an exiled prince, only a rebellious warlord who sought to overthrow the Imperium and sit himself upon his father's throne, then yes, perhaps such would be the case. But he is much more than that. We Inquisitors are not enforcers of a cruel and tyrannical regime akin to countless others in Humanity's history, using propaganda and fear to maintain our rule. Horus and his cohorts are the champions of actual infernal powers, daemonic entities of immense power and limitless malice who seek to drag our entire species into damnation. The totalitarian regimes we empower across thousands of worlds are the only way to keep the corruption of Chaos from taking root, even if their ruthlessness breeds discontent and rebellion. It is tempting to rule with a lighter hand, but even in Ultramar, where Guilliman's rule brings prosperity and relative freedom, there is still dissent, as petty tyrants seek to build their own empires in the Avenging Son's shadow – only to be mercilessly crushed at the first sign of Chaotic influence or once diplomacy has failed.**

The Emperor was saddened by this.  
**  
And so began the Age of Vigilance, amidst tyranny and paranoia, in which we all yet live.**

The tech priest noted, "In the grim dark future there is only paranoia."  
**  
Since the Proclamation, the Imperium's borders have more or less remained constant, with our attention focused inward. Fewer colonies are established every year, as it is easiest for heresy to take root on frontier worlds where the Imperial infrastructure isn't yet fully developed. Those few new settlements created on resource-rich worlds discovered by Rogue Traders are heavily monitored by the Ordo Hereticus – a heavy-handedness that, once again, causes much resentment and fear from the population.**

**The Iron Hands were brought in to handle the purge of rebellious worlds, performing their task with cold rigour and mathematical precision. The Iron Fathers judge rebels and heretics by exacting standards, deciding alongside Inquisitors how much of the local population must be exterminated to remove the rot. Theirs is a dreaded name, and not one invoked lightly.**

Ferrus looked at his hands and murmured, "Flesh is not weak."  
**  
The Imperial Fists are the defenders of Cadia and the Aegis Ocularis, keeping close watch on the Eye of Terror. Information on what transpires within that realm of madness is scarce, extracted from the few Chaos Marines who have been captured over the centuries. Even what these traitors tell us is often contradictory, but we do know that, after a time of conflict known as the "Legion Wars", the Traitor Legions have settled into an uneasy peace and focused their efforts on the corruption of the Imperium in preparation for the day they break free of the Eye and return to the Materium.**

**The White Scars have become hunters of pirates, laying traps and ambushes for renegades and alien reavers. They hate the Dark Eldar above all others, and still search for the location of their lost gene-sire. With the bulk of the Imperial Navy dedicated to internal security, the denizens of Commoragh must plan their raids in realspace very carefully, and it is believed by the Ordo Xenos that the Dark City has been going hungry for centuries now. I have spoken with colleagues belonging to that Ordo who fear that, in the coming years, the highborn of that hateful xenos breed will be forced to take drastic action to satisfy the gnawing hunger at the core of their darkling souls.**

Jagathai Khan was proud of his sons.  
**  
The Five Hundred Worlds are the pinnacle of the new Imperium. Under Guilliman, this sector of space is the most prosperous, peaceful and advanced area of the Imperium. From within it come the armies of Ultramar, under the leadership of the Thirteenth Legion, bringing support and succour to other parts of the Imperium. But even there, even now, there is dissent. The Traitor Legions know of Guilliman's importance in the new order, and there are many Inquisitors stationed in the Five Hundred Worlds, dedicated to protecting them from the schemes of the Archenemy.**

Roboute seemed neutral on this.  
**  
With the memory of the Primarchs' purge after the Proclamation, the High Lords have remained focused on their duties, with only minor corruption, focused on venal pursuits at levels that are to be expected from people holding such power. Vulkan remains on Terra as a further remainder of the peril of failure, and his genius has helped transform the entire Sol system into something that is almost completely self-sustaining, without the dependency on imported resources that was the norm during the Great Crusade. With our borders secured, there is less need for military resources than during the Great Crusade – indeed, any Governor gearing up for war without due course will draw the eye of the Inquisition, as this is a warning of potential rebellion – and the tithes across the Imperium have lowered accordingly. Even so, the prosperity of the post-Heresy era has yet to return, let alone the utopia that was promised during the Great Crusade.**

Vulkan smiled widely at this.  
**  
The disappearance of Russ was another blow to the Imperium. Even if the Wolf King had remained on Fenris since the end of the Scouring, knowing that the Traitor Legions could strike at one of the Legions' homeworld was a sobering thought. All loyal Legions redoubled the defenses of their own homeworlds in the wake of the Crimson King's attack, and the ties between the Sixth Legion and the Ordo Xenos were reinforced as the Space Wolves sought to safeguard their place in the Imperium without their Primarch.**

Russ looked kinda happy at this. At least his sons weren't being punished by the Inquisition.  
**  
The Long War continues. Through their heretical sorcery, scattered across the galaxy by the thrice-accursed cult-ships of Horus, Chaos Marines hailing from all nine Traitor Legions walk the worlds of the Imperium once more. Never in great number, thankfully, but even a single fallen Astartes is a force to be reckoned with, capable of turning a conspiracy of grumbling nobles into a planet-wide rebellion that can only be put down with Exterminatus. I have faced these tainted grandchildren of the God-Emperor several times during my career, and lost friends and parts of myself to them.**

Most of the Primarchs were horrorfied by the damage a single chaos marine could do. Alpharius/Omegon just nodded knowingly.  
**  
I have witnessed horrors that nearly matched those of the Heresy – for even now, after so many centuries, the memories of those days are still burned in my mind, in my very soul. The Chaos Marines who are sent from the Eye are cunning ones, capable of hiding the true extant of their corruption, but when their back is at the wall – or when their foul plans finally unfold – their true nature is revealed for all to see. I have seen men, women and children offered up as sacrifices to the Dark Gods, seen disciplined armies turned to blood-crazed hordes, seen cities reduced to ash and less than ash. But through it all, I have endured, I have kept going on.**

The entire room gained a great respect for this inquisitor.  
**  
For the dream of the God-Emperor may have died, but hope yet remains, so long as there is breath left in us to defy the cruelty of Fate, to stand against the tides of Ruin, to spit in the eye of Chaos.**

**Only in death does duty ends, and my duty will soon be ended, after over two thousand years.**

**… I wonder, will she be waiting for me ?**

As the video ended the Emperor whispered, "I sure hope so." 

* * *

author note: when the Emperor whispers he talks normal.


	41. everqueen tts 1

as a reviewer has asked for more everqueen, I have decided to do the tts episode. I want to do actual tts episodes, but I don't have the scripts. nor do I have the time or the patience to transcribe them myself. so if anyone has the scripts and send a copy to me, I would be greatful.

also, I am working on the second chapter of the phoenix freed.

this was made by Ashynarr.

forum/threads/everqueen-warhammer-30k.475460/page-10#post-19603627

* * *

The tech priest found a tts for the everqueen files. The Emperor immediately ordered him to play it, as he knew they all needed a break from the grimdarkness of the other files.  
**  
Episode 1: Hitting Rock Bottom**

Magnus noted, "Very accurate description."

**[Scene: The Warp. The Aeldari Pantheon is standing around, most of them decked in battlegear. Nearby is a churning mass of hot pink madness making uncomfortably lewd noises.]**

Vulkan felt conflicted, he hated the Eldar but he hated Chaos more.

**Asuryan: Does everyone know the plan?**

**Khaine: Hit that disgusting thing until it knows it's place or dies!**

Angron noted, "That guy seems like my kind of guy."

**Vaul: And then figure out what to do with it.**

Manus noted, "Just kill it."

**Lileath: *under breath* This is the stupidest thing we've ever done, and that's saying something...**

The Emperor nodded, for all his friendship with the Aeldari pantheon they could be pretty foolish.

**Isha: I still think this could have been solved much earlier simply by lowering the ban on visiting the Aeldari and knocking sense into them.**

Fulgrim was curious. This was Isha, the all loving mother goddess.

**Asuryan: And give Khaine another chance to kill them all?**

**Isha: *under breath* Honestly at this point, I'd even take that…**

**Kurnous: *pats his wife on the shoulder* Don't worry, dear, this will probably get it all out of their system in one go.**

**Khaine: Where is that clown coward? He should have been here by now!**

**Morai-Heg: Yes, he is running late… I don't suppose you've seen him recently, Isha?**

**Isha: Well…**

**[Brief flashback to Cegorach nailing an 'out of order' sign to a webway entrance before waving at Isha and heading inside, closing and locking the door behind himself. Scene returns to present.]**

The Enperor chuckled a bit at this.

**Isha: I think there was something about the webway passages being out of order.**

**Asuryan: Again? Really, something's going to have to be done one of these millenia, it's getting ridiculous.**

The Emperor said, "AND I AM DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT."

**Lileath: Look out, it's spawning!**

**[An explosion of pink rolls past all of them, cackling laughter sounding across the Warp as the newest God is born.]**

**Slaanesh: HELLO, BOYS AND GIRLS! WHO'S READY FOR SOME **

**_FUN_**

**Asuryan: *rolls neck* It has a sense of timing, at least.**

Lorgar noted, "There sense of the dramatic is pretty much the only redeeming quality of the Chaos Gods."

**Vaul: I suppose there's no escaping this now...**

**Kurnous: This might be an interesting fight for once.**

**Isha: *sigh* I really think this could have been prevented entirely…**

The Emperor noted, "YES IT COULD HAVE."

**[As the other five head offscreen to attack Slaanesh, Isha gets tapped on the shoulder by Tzeentch.]**

**Isha: *turns to look and recoils briefly* What the- who are you?**

**Tzeentch: I thought you might need this. *hands over clear plastic umbrella, already opened***

Horus groaned at this, and the room prepared for something bad.

**Isha: *hold it to the side* ...why in the world would I need this? The others are about to-**

**[The umbrella is abruptly splattered in guts and warp-viscera, both Isha and Tzeentch managing to remain clean because of the precise placement of the head of the umbrella.]**

Angron felt the butcher nails bite in and Konrad looked disgusted.

**Isha: I- what in the worlds-**

**[Looks over to see Slaanesh fighting with Khaine, wearing Kurnous' now overly glamoured armor and wielding Asuryan's sword with unnecessary flourish in between strikes. There's no sign of any of the other Warp gods besides scraps of their clothing or hair.]**

Jagathai said, "That's just sad."

**Isha: ...we should go.**

**[Turns back to Tzeentch, who's rolling over and over cackling at her and at the carnage, as well as the other two Chaos gods who just showed up to enjoy the show.]**

**Isha: ...I should go. I'm-**

**[Backs up into Nurgle, and pauses to look when she turns to see who it is.]**

**Isha: ...eep.**

Corax whispered, "I don't think anyone would have a different response."

**Nurgle: Why hello there, Miss Isha. Lovely day today, isn't it?**

**Isha: I, ah, well.**

**[Screen shift over to where Slaanesh and Khaine are still fighting, with Tzeentch playing with a few of the bodies while Khorne strides over.]**

**Slaanesh: Hey, you sac of pus, lay off of her, she's mine!**

**Nurgle: *from offscreen* As if she'd want to stay with a drug-addled brat like you, instead of a caring and thoughtful being like myself.**

Mortarion scoffed.

**Slaanesh: Oh yeah? Wanna say that to my face?**

**Khaine: Take this fight seriously, you whore!**

Angron felt sympathy for Khanie.

**Slaanesh: Maybe when you stop being so **

**_bo_****-ring- (is interrupted by a swing of Khorne's sword) Hey, what's the big deal?!**

**Khorne: Khaine belongs to **

**_me_****, not you.**

Angron's respect for Khaine grew.

**Slaanesh: Oh, **

**_really?_**

**Khaine: Enough of this. I belong to neither of you-**

**[Khaine is interrupted as Khorne seizes one arm and Slaanesh seizes the other, and they begin to use him for tug of war as Khaine screams in agony]**

The screams of agony from the war god caused many in the room to flinch.

**Slaanesh: **

**_Let - go - you - bloodthirsty moron!_**

**Khorne: **

**_You_**** let go, you stupid whore.**

**[Glowing red cracks begin to spread across Khaine's body as the tug of war continues, until Khaine explodes in a thousand thousand pieces, sending Slaanesh hurtling across the room]**

**Tzeentch: *holding up three signs with numbers on them* I give it a six for style, an eight for the explosion, and a nine for the sheer entertainment value.**

The Emperor was slightly ashamed with the fact that he agreed with the indecisive mollusk.

**[Slaanesh crashes to a halt besides Isha and Nurgle, looking moderately beat up from the explosion]**

**Slaanesh: Ohh, I'm feeling so faint… I think I need a medic…**

**[Isha steps away, only for Slaanesh to pop up and pull her in close, cupping one of her cheeks.]**

**Slaanesh: Won't you open your kind and gentle heart to this wounded soul, and take care of me? I'll let you go over **

**_every inch_**** to make sure I'm back to full strength for afterwards~**

The disgust of every inhabitant in the room caused Slannesh to be damaged in the warp.

**Nurgle: *slides in* You know, if you like, I can handle this one for you, miss Isha.**

**Slaanesh: *tsks* We're having a moment here, rotface, go away.**

**Isha: *struggling to escape Slaanesh's grip* You already killed the rest! Either kill me or let me go, but stop with this humiliation! You've won!**

**Slaanesh: *chuckles* But where would be the fun in just letting you go? Why, all those tears in you, all the building frustration… it's a delight to the senses, a banquet of pleasures, all for me to indulge in for the rest of time! Unless you want to play some other game with me instead~?**

**Isha: I- what- no, let me **

**_go_****!**

**Slaanesh: The hunter and hunted? I like the way you think! I could even look like your dearly departed husband, to better fit the game! *makes themselves looks like Kurnous* Didn't you just love to play it with him all those aeons ago?**

It hadn't seemed possible, but the room's hatred of Slannesh increased.

**Isha: *stops and glares at Slaanesh* How dare you defile my husband's memory like that, you fetid whore.**

**Slaanesh: Not your hubby then? Maybe this one will make you more comfortable~ *shifts themselves to look like Lileath* I'm sorry mommy, I've been bad…**

Honestly, it is better to not imagine what has happened to Slannesh's realm in response to this. Some things are better left unknown, and it might make you feel pity for She-Who-Thirsts.

**[Isha goes completely still. Tzeentch, Nurgle and Khorne all back up a step and Slaanesh pokes Isha's face in sudden confusion.]**

**[Meanwhile, on the minor Eldar craftworld Ctho.]**

**Eldar 1: I can't believe it… so many worlds gone, so much history and effort lost... all because of those pleasure-obsessed fools...**

**Eldar 2: At least we saved most of the important relics of our world before it was too late. With any luck, we'll be able to rebuild the best parts within the walls of our craftworld and-**

**[A massive psychic scream pierces through the craftworld, causing the two to press their hands to their heads in pain before it cuts out as quickly as it came.]**

**Eldar 1: What in the gods' names was that?**

**Eldar 2: I have the strange feeling I recognize that voice, but where…?**

**[Back with Isha and the Chaos Gods, the former of whom is doing her best attempt to murder Slaanesh with the umbrella while Slaanesh offers moans of pleasure and encouragement.]**

The Primarchs were cheering for Isha now.

**Khorne: ...trade you for the sword guy.**

**Nurgle: **

**_Excuse_**** me? Why would I want some muscle bound brute when I could have a delicate and gentle flower to crown my gardens?**

**Isha: I'LL RIP OUT YOUR STOMACH, YOU ABOMINABLE CANCER ON REALITY!**

Lion snarked, "I can see why Khorne might like her."

**Slaanesh: Oh, yes mistress, belittle me more, show me who's in charge~**

Rogal, as blunt as ever, said a single word, "Disgusting."

**Khorne: I'm just saying, leaving her in a cage is a real waste when we could be seeing how long we can push her to fight for her life. I've heard some interesting things about those plant armies of hers, and I bet they'd be really fun to fight if I got her to water them with blood.**

The Emperor remembered those plant armies, while the Tech Priest was reminded of Watermelon Steven.

**Tzeentch: Are you sure you wouldn't mind leaving her with me for a few minutes first? I have a few wonderful plans I could use her to pull off.**

**Nurgle: She's **

**_my_**** waifu, we agreed ages ago when we divided up the survivors!**

The wirring of the Tech Priest raising his eyebrow was heard.

**Tzeentch: Yes, well, Cegorach ran away and Khaine is rather one dimensional, but this one is**

**_ interesting_****.**

**[Another scream echoes, and the three look back to Isha as she steps back, covered in Slaanesh's blood and breathing heavily, although it's obvious that Slaanesh isn't even really harmed based on the way they twist themselves around to show off.]**

**Slaanesh: Oh mistress, **

**_please_**** keep going, I've been so bad~**

**Isha: I would rather - *realizes she's the center of attention of all four, dropping the umbrella with another squeak of horror and hunching to make herself smaller***

Many primarchs were impressed by how similar Isha was to a normal human.

**Slaanesh: *now annoyed as they get up to face the others* Thanks for ruining the mood, I was just getting her amped up for the good stuff. And for the record, she's Eldar, therefore she's **

**_mine_****.**

**Nurgle: If you're looking for a fight over her hand, I'll be happy to give you one you won't forget.**

**Khorne: Just because you're hyped up on all those souls doesn't make you the biggest player on the block.**

**Tzeentch: And we'd never turn down a chance to remind you of your place in this pantheon, youngest one.**

**Slaanesh: **

**_Bring it_****.**

**[While the four start arguing further and are just about ready to brawl, Isha slowly starts stepping backwards, creeping slowly further from them while they're distracted. When she's far enough away, she turns to flee only to step on a daemonette, which squeals as it crumples under her foot.]**

The Emperor noted, "AND THAT IS WHY CHAOS CAN BE DEFEATED."

**Isha: Uh-oh.**

**Tzeentch: Hey, wait, get back here!**

**Isha: Eep! *bolts like her life depends on it***

The Tech Priest played a clip of a woman yelling, "Run forest Run!"

**[Cue a benny hill chase scene across the Warp, Isha ducking and dodging all attempts to catch her while the four keep running into each other and quarreling before realizing they're falling behind and returning to the chase. Eventually, though, she escapes into an empty part of the warp with no more cover, where she ends up trapped between a cliff and the four.]**

During the chase the Tech Priest played Yakety Sax, aka the benny hill theme.

**Tzeentch: Clever, but not clever enough.**

**Khorne: And now you'll pay the price for your failure.**

**Nurgle: Come with us, and we'll be gentle…**

**Slaanesh: Mostly, anyways… *perverted giggle***

**[Isha looks over the edge, and then back to them, a grin on her lips.]**

**Isha: Sorry, but this is my stop. Better luck never!**

**[Hops off the edge of the warp, right past a 'No Trespassing' sign. Slaanesh is set to rush after, only to be held back by Khorne.]**

Now Magnus was curious.

**Slaanesh: Let me go, she's getting away!**

**Khorne: Hold on a minute there, hotshot, you don't want to go that way.**

**Slaanesh: Why not? What's so special about that place?**

**Nurgle: That's where **

**_He_**** lives.**

All the primarchs knew they referred to there father.

**Slaanesh: Who?**

**Tzeentch: The one being who has managed to solve all my riddles, fill Nurgle's house with air fresheners, and beat Khorne in arm wrestling...**

Sanguinius turned to the Emperor and asked, "Did all that happen?" The Emperor nodded and said, "THAT WAS A GREAT DAY."

**[Meanwhile, on **

**Terra**** Earth, outside of the Bai-heng hive, during a victory celebration.]**

**Emperor: Ah, another victory of the hardy boys under our belts, and another bloc brought under our control. Without any further complications, we should be all done with cleaning up in a decade or so.**

**Malcador: Yes, though we still need to deal with Kalagann and Ursh. We've destroyed the other empires and kingdoms built by Chaos cults, but Ursh is larger and stronger than rest of them combined.**

The Emperor knew that to be true.

**Emperor: Don't worry so much, old friend. We'll deal with Ursh in time. For now, we should just celebrate our victory.**

**Malcador: I suppose you're right...**

**Emperor: It's been a good day, Mal. And we invested a lot of effort in this party. The only way it could get better is if some Eldar hookers dropped out of the sky-**

The Emperor put his head in his hands and asked, "WILL I EVER BE RID OF THAT EMBARISING STATEMENT?" Rogal just said, "Doubtful father." The Emperor didn't even need to prompt Perturabo to hit Rogal.

**[Isha crashes in from the heavens, leaving a massive crater in the ground and the rest of the people nearby scrambling to get away. Malcador looks from the crater up to the sky and then back to the crater, while the Emperor slides down into it to check on the newcomer.]**

**Malcador: ...the only way this day could get better is if a mountain of complete STCs got unearthed just now.**

**[Beat while nothing happens.]**

The tech priest chuckled at that.

**Malcador: ...ah, well. Wasn't expecting to work, but it was worth a shot.**

**Emperor: Mal, you might want to see this.**

**Malcador: What? Does she need a medic or something?**

**[Screen shifts down into the crater, where Isha is lying face down in a small field of grasses and shrubs that definitely weren't there earlier, with the Emperor kneeling next to her.]**

**Emperor: No, I'm fairly certain she **

**_is_**** the medic.**

**Isha: ...ow…**

The video ended, and the room filled with the auto-tuned laughter of the Tech Priest.


	42. prince of the eye 24

hey folks. I recently discovered the Beetlejuice musical, and I will definitely have the tech priest sing the whole being dead thing part 1, but with some lines modified. For example he will say "I do this like twice a week." And when he sings he isn't autotuned, he sounds like the singer of the original.

Also, I am working on the Phoenix Freed, but it will be worth the wait. if its not please tell me why and I will endeavor to fix it in the future.

prince of the eye was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-22#post-64727051

s/13366753/24/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started the next video

**Firsts of the Damned**

Corvus noted, "Rather ominious title."  
**  
Maeleum Datum : ?.?**

**There are no kings in the Eye of Terror : even proud Horus dares only claim the title of Prince. The same is true among daemons, though there are legends of ancient, powerful Daemon Kings, who ruled over kingdoms stretching across the stars.**

The Emperor smiled smugly, "AND THEY ALL FELL BY MY BLADE."  
**  
If such beings ever existed, they are gone now, slain by those who oppose the corruption of the Warp or cast down in ages past by Gods that brook no rivals to their absolute dominion over the Neverborn. But though there are no kings among daemonkind, there still exists an aristocracy of Hell, made up of the Ruinous Powers' most exalted slaves. Daemon Princes and Greater Daemons, the lords of their own infernal hosts : warlords and courtiers of the Great Game of Chaos, forever dancing to the tune of the Dark Gods. Across the Eye and beyond, their names and titles are whispered in the darkness, and inscribed upon parchment and stone by the hands of madmen.**

**A conclave of such beings was gathering on the daemon world of Hak'Lor'Ven, where a trillion lost souls were trapped in a single moment of betrayed hope. As the tides of the Eye shifted, the daemon world was left unchanged, an eternal monument to the folly of the ancient race that had thought to cheat the Dark Gods of their due, in an age before the Fall of the Eldar. The infernal nobility met high above the fields of frozen souls, atop the remnants of the tower upon which the ill-fated ritual that had doomed this world had been conducted.**

The Emperor frowned at this sight.  
**  
There it was that the Daemon Lords who met on Hak'Lor'Ven's highest point, gathered from across the Eye of Terror to discuss matters of pacts and vengeance. They were exiles all, chased from their own domains by the armies of the Traitor Legions, these upstart newcomers to the Great Game. As the Legion Wars had raged, the sons of the renegade Primarchs had sought to draw every resource available in the Eye of Terror under their control. With blade and sorcery, they had conquered daemon world after daemon world, heedless of the ancient treaties and rights of conquest that had seen them divided between the children of the Pantheon after the birth of the Dark Prince.**

Most of the Primarchs were unsettled by the similarities with the Great Crusade that this had.  
**  
The tower was vast beyond mundane engineering, raised at the apex of a civilization that had reached too far and touched its doom on the other side of the Veil. The platform upon which the Daemon Lords met was nearly a kilometer in diameter, and host to hundreds of crystallized statues. There was space enough for all seventy-two infernal lords to manifest, though some of them had assumed shapes less enormous than those they usually favoured as a concession to the needs of the gathering. Each of them had come alone, leaving their followers at the base of the tower, where already they had begun to kill each other for sport. It did not matter to the Daemon Lords even if they all wiped themselves out – this gathering, this infernal conclave, was far more important.**

The tech priest murmured something about the tower of babel.  
**  
Never had so many Daemon Princes and Greater Daemons of different choirs met in the Materium, and rarely had this happened even in the Eye of Terror, or even in the Realms of Chaos themselves. The sheer diversity of the gathering was a sign of the scale of the disturbance introduced by the Traitor Legions into what passed for the balance of power within the Eye.**

Lion spoke to the Emperor, "Just as you can cause the Chaos Gods to unite, so can your grandsons can cause Daemons to unite."  
**  
The being known as the Sovereign of Starless Nights was a figure of absolute blackness in which shone the light of the stars as seen from its homeworld, before it had stolen them and driven its own people into a pit of existential dread so powerful they had destroyed themselves. For ages uncounted it had reigned over the husk of that world, cloaked in eternal night, until the rise of Slaanesh had pulled it into the Eye of Terror, where the Sovereign had been overthrown by a cabal of champions bearing the Eye of Horus as their banner. After a long period of discussions, intrigues, alliances and betrayals, the Sovereign had emerged as the representative of the seventeen Tzeentchian Daemon Lords present at the conclave.**

Magnus stared into the darkest night of the Tzeentchian Daemon on screen and saw into himself. And he realized he didn't like what he saw.  
**  
Of the seventy-two, the chosen of Khorne numbered the least. None of the Blood God's champions had retreated before the advance of the Traitor Legions, and most of those who had been forced out of their worlds by either sorcery or defeat had been co-opted by Angron's crusade in the Radiant Worlds, where the Lord of the Red Sands battled the Anathema's light-forged angels in an endless slaughter. But a few had come to Hak'Lor'Ven all the same, their fury at being defeated through cowardly means surpassing even the pull of Angron's call to eternal war. There were eight of them, as there should be, and the one who came to speak in Khorne's name was the mightiest of them all – again, as it should be. Vangash'hagash the Ever-Bloody would have been classified by the Diabolists of the Traitor Legions as a Bloodthirster. Once, it had ruled over the daemon world of Kathalon, endlessly fighting against the legions of Tzeentch – until a cabal of Horusian Sorcerers led by Ahriman himself had bound its Tzeentchian rival to their service and crafted a ritual that had forced the Bloodthirster to depart from the world and prevented its return for as long as their banner flew upon its captured stronghold.**

Angron popped another Ibuprofen while the tech priest played a quote of a stupid sounding voice saying, "Isn't that the red sweaty guy you work for?" The Emperor's chuckles caused about half of the skulls in Khornes throne to turn into bubbles.  
**  
With fire and sorcery, the plague planets of the Nurglite Neverborn had been cleansed so that the Traitor Legions could harvest their resources for their own use. Orbital bombardments had razed cities of rot and rust, and Sorcerers had stalked the ruins and burned everything down, banishing the wounded daemons back into the Empyrean while their will reached out and forced out their influence. Only where the flag of the Fourteenth Legion flew were the scions of the Grandfather safe, for of the nine Traitor Legions, only the sons of Mortarion were willing to share their domains with the pestilent Neverborn. By their very nature, the champions of entropy were anathema to the sons of Primarchs who sought to build their empires within the Eye of Terror, and so they found themselves hunted by all Chaos Marines, only rarely bound into servitude and containment instead. Twenty-one Lords of Decay had gathered to Hak'Lor'Ven, the tower beneath their feet straining as the curse of unchanging permanence cast upon it by the Gods struggled to resist the pull of entropy. Speaking for the scions of Plague was Kog'Hevor, the Bestower of Sorrow. Unlike most daemons of Nurgle, the Bestower did not resemble the grotesquely bloated figure of the Plaguefather himself, but was instead a tall, skeletal figure clad in a hooded cloak woven from the life-strands of the countless millions it had slain through spreading the gifts of Nurgle.**

Mortarion's loathing of the reality tumor that claimed him and his sons grew at the sight of this Daemon.  
**  
Since the Fall of the Eldar and the opening of the Eye, the scions of Slaanesh had held dominion over the greatest number of daemon worlds, though their initially complete control had only waned as the other three Ruinous Powers sought mastery of this priceless territory. But though the Dark Prince's holdings in the Eye had been on the decline since the Great Game had begun in his grave-birth, the children of Slaanesh were still the most numerous faction among the dispossessed Daemon Lords. Their pleasure palaces and fields of pain had proven poor defences against the brute military force of the Legions, and though defeat was an experience to be savored as much as any other, so too was revenge for every slight inflicted upon them. Nineteen daughters and sons of the Youngest God had heeded the call to gather, and the one who spoke for them was Ilkerya, Duchess of Delightful Agonies. She had come to the gathering in the shape of a tall Eldar female, the image of one of the Soul-broken's ancient goddesses tainted only by her missing eyes, which wept tears of blood and within the empty depths of which gleamed a hungry light. In her hands, she held the broken remnants of her sword, which had been ruined by the Dark Apostles of the Seventeenth Legion when they had conquered her world in the name of Lorgar and the Crimson Accords.**

Fulgrim was enraged by this daemon, as was Vulkan. The primarch of the salamanders hated the Eldar, but the Duchess was just insulting.  
**  
Seven other Daemon Lords were of no easily recognizable allegiance. These were the children of Chaos Undivided, who paid fealty to none of the individual Powers. They had all once walked the galaxy as mortals, for it was only by elevating those of their champions who had earned their combined favor that the Dark Gods could tolerate creating Neverborn not bound to them. Like the daemon kings of old, there were stories that spoke of such creatures, spawned in the earliest days of the Primordial Annihilator – but they were stories and nothing more, not any longer. The seven stood together, isolated from the rest of the daemonic courts, for they were ever a breed apart – marked for a special kind of greatness even among Daemon Lords, while at the same time forever looked down upon for their mortal origins. First among them was a being called the Lord of Gears, a humanoid shape in a crimson cloak with a multitude of eyes peering out from its hood, set between ever-turning brass gears. It had been human, during the Dark Age of Technology, and though its dominion was far from the Eye of Terror it had still been usurped, stolen from it by one of the most successful cults created by the Horusian ships who had slipped through the Cadian Gate at the Proclamation.**

Ferrus looked to his metallic hands as he often did when contemplating things.  
**  
It was the Sovereign of Starless Nights that spoke first.**

The Emperor murmured, "AS USUAL, TZEENTCH IS THE ONE WHO UNITES CHAOS."  
**  
Daemons do not speak in any mortal tongue when communicating with one another. Even those who originated from the ranks of the living are creatures of raw concept and emotion, given form by their animating will and aspect by the nightmares of those who behold them trying to make sense of something that has no place in the Materium. When the children of Chaos communicate, on those rare occasions when they can tolerate another's presence, they do so in their own way, which only tangentially resembles what mortals think of as language. To creatures such as they, there is no such thing as idle chatter, no wasted words or meaningless banter. Like the Dark Gods they are fragments of, they exchange concepts and ideas rather than words, and every single one of them holds the seeds of damnation. But the surface of their exchange can be translated, however imperfectly, into something comprehensible by mortal minds.**

The tech priest quoted, "There are things man is not meant to know." Magnus once more wanted to argue but decided against it.  
**  
The Sovereign began by stating once more the purpose of this exalted gathering. Though they had suffered at the hands of warbands from all nine exiled Legions, the Daemon Lords knew who was the source of their predicament, said the Tzeentchian representative. Horus, Warmaster of Chaos and self-proclaimed Prince of the Eye, had by his very presence altered the nature of the Great Game within the Eye. The mortal armies that had come to the Eye in the wake of the Gods' strike against the Anathema had been supposed to be broken, added to the ranks of the Lost and the Damned that populated the realm and made the playthings of the Daemon Lords.**

Rogal noted, "That is true." Perturabo hit him yet again.  
**  
Yet instead, these primates sought to become lords of their own. Horus' shadow and example loomed large, and if one mortal warlord, however exalted, could hold dominion over the Blessed, then why could not others ? By his presence, the Warmaster had made whole that which should have been sundered, either in his service or in opposition to him. This had to end, the Sovereign declared, to the grudging acclaim of its peers. The dominion of the Legions upon the Eye of Terror must be broken, and mortals made to remember their place in the hierarchy of the Gods' servants.**

**The Duchess of Delightful Agonies mentioned Aftermath, the city of cities, and the Masters who now ruled it. Horus' conquest of the Forge of Souls was yet another slight from the upstart, yet Ilkerya pointed out the opportunity it had created for them. The Masters would not have deigned join the efforts against Horus before – they had cared for nothing beyond their domain and the paying of the tithes by their horde of Soul Grinders. But now, all knew that they too had sworn revenge against the Warmaster. But Kog'Hevor shook its head. The Masters had already been approached : they had their own designs, their own plans and schemes, and would only join forces with other powers if those came to them as subordinates, not equals. Even in their exile, said the Bestower of Sorrow, they were prideful creatures, reflecting of their own origins. And besides, the Masters were known to the Warmaster : by associating themselves with the former lords of the Forge of Souls, the Daemon Lords risked drawing attention to themselves before they were ready.**

**Slowly, a coalition began to form, as the inherent hatred the Firsts of the Damned held for one another were eclipsed by their displeasure with the Legions who had usurped their kingdoms. What passed for infernal diplomacy was a dreadful thing indeed, and pacts that involved the doom of billions of souls were made as bribes. Months passed, turning to years, and still the discussion continued, progressing ever so slowly. Something which mortals may have called a charter was drafted, describing the terms and goals of the Convention of Hak'Lor'Ven. The Daemon Lords wrote it in blazing letters upon the flayed skin of dead Legionaries, and one by one all seventy-two signed it, investing part of their power into the charter, willingly binding themselves to it so that all would be forcefully bound to its terms in turn.**

Even on the screen the power of pact could be sensed by anyone with even the slightest hint of psychic power.  
**  
It was then that a great shadow fell upon the assembled Daemon Lords. The skies of Hak'Lor'Ven were suddenly shrouded in darkness, and from that darkness descended a tall figure, cloaked in the very fabric of night itself. This was Be'lakor, Master of Shadows and Firstborn of the Gods, eldest of all Daemon Princes, who had been elevated when the galaxy was young and the Old Ones had not yet faded from history into myth. Though his star had dimmed since the Dark Gods had elevated other champions to daemonhood, Be'lakor remained mighty, his cruelty and malice dreaded even by Daemon Lords.**

The Imperial Family renembered the Roboutian heresy files and the power of Be'lakor.  
**  
There was a pause, as the seventy-two wondered if the Master of Shadows had come to add his strength to the Convention. The Master of Shadows glanced over the gathered Lords, his glare full of amused contempt. Then, without further fanfare, he snatched the Convention's charter and vanished.**

**There was a great uproar, rage and confusion mixed. It was the Sovereign of Starless Nights who first noticed that the heavens above Hak'Lor'Ven had changed. No longer did the burning lights of the Eye of Terror shone upon the Convention : instead, a uniform scarlet glow stretched from horizon to horizon, and the Daemon Lords were trapped beneath it, unable to escape from the daemon world.**

**Be'lakor, in a feat of ritual sorcery made possible only by the unique conditions within the Eye of Terror, had used the Convention's charter as the keystone for a working of truly staggering scale. The Firstborn of Chaos had turned Hak'Lor'Ven into a jewel-like bauble, which he presented to Horus Lupercal as a gift and sign of alliance.**

The Emperor sighed, why anyone trusted Be'lakor was beyond him.  
**  
The Warmaster looked at the orb, seeing past its crystalline exterior and at the caged Lords inside, and smiled, before welcoming the First of the Damned to his court.**

**Like the Daemon Lords, Be'lakor had observed the rise of the Traitor Legions within the Eye of Terror. But where the possibility of being overthrown as the Gods' favoured in the Eye had driven the Lords to wrath, the Master of Shadows had seen opportunity instead. Be'lakor cared naught for being the first among the Dark Gods' servants : during the countless aeons he had spent as a Prince of Ruin, the Master of Shadows had long since grown to covet the power of godhood for himself. Horus, who wielded the might of all four Ruinous Powers yet was beholden to none, seemed to Be'lakor a path to the ultimate dominion he desired for himself.**

The Primarchs all swore oaths of moment to ensure that Be'lakor never gained godhood.  
**  
For a time, Be'lakor remained on Maeleum, acting as one of Horus' advisors in matters related to the Neverborn. The Master of Shadows was not trusted, of course – Horus was no fool – but his knowledge of the intricacies of the various pacts and ancient covenants by which the Ruinous Powers were bound surpassed even that gleaned by Horus when he had ascended on Molech. With his assistance, the Warmaster was able to play upon the ever-present distrust and conflict between the choirs of the Dark Gods, and any possibility of a new daemonic alliance against the Warmaster faded away. Entire daemon worlds were lost to renewed warfare as immortal grudges were stoked once more, and the dreams of psykers across the galaxy were filled with dreadful imagery as the echoes of these conflicts reached them.**

**Eventually, however, Be'lakor vanished from Maeleum. None knew where he had gone, and those few who dared to ask Horus received only an enigmatic smile in response. Wild theories blossomed : some thought the Warmaster had destroyed or imprisoned the Daemon Prince after a failed attempt at usurpation while others believed that Horus had sent Be'lakor on a secret assignment. Regardless, the Firstborn of Chaos was not found, despite the best efforts of many of Horus' paranoid enemies (and not a few of his allies).**

**As for Hak'Lor'Ven, it remained within the Prince of the Eye's palace on Maeleum, a jewel laying on a cushion woven from the souls of the Warmaster's foes. Within, the Daemon Lords remained, and though they were exiled from reality and unreality alike they remained mighty and cunning.**

The sight of the Daemon world trophy disturbed the entire room.  
**  
By the terms of the Convention, they were proscribed from directly harming one another, save for the case of agreed upon duels – a clause which had been added to the charter in order to placate the Khornate Neverborn. And so they built kingdoms instead, dividing Hak'Lor'Ven between themselves. Together, a cabal of Daemon Lords found a way to break the crystal statues of the world's doomed inhabitants and bind the souls within, resurrecting that ancient species into a new form as their slaves – before the cabal split, and its secrets were spread among the seventy-two, now calling themselves the Exiles. Worshipped by these deceived creatures, the Exiles created new civilizations, each reflecting their own aspect of the Primordial Truth, and with those they intrigued and made war upon one another like gods from ancient myth. Some still sought a way to break Be'lakor's bindings and return to the Eye of Terror, but even those were forced to participate in the small-scale version of the Great Game that raged across the daemon world.**

The tech priest once more said his politics quote.  
**  
From the outside, looking upon the bauble, one could see the lights of these conflicts shine through the Firstborn's cage, and it was used as a conversation piece and an example of the dangers of defying Horus for visitors and diplomats from the other realms of the Eye. Yet it also remained under heavy guard, for Horus was no fool, and did not trust the gifts of daemons.**

As the video ended Horus said, "Ten thrones says the prize will backfire on him." The tech priest said., "I will take that action."


	43. warhammer 45k part four

ok, as I am writing this it is my fathers birthday. that is why I delayed (that and It was late when I remembered to do this and I was tired).

this was made by the stormlord

forum/threads/warhammer-45k.212112/page-2#post-5210161

* * *

the tech priest started up the projector.

_******The King's War and the Second's Escape******_  
**  
In 768.M42, the Octarian War was still going on. The Orks and the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Leviathan were locked in a quagmire - and for good reason. Leviathan had evolved ever new and ever more terrible killer-forms - the Dominatrix Primes, the Alpha Tyrants, the Stealth-Slayer Lictors, even the dreaded Psychovores. And in defence the Orks had built more and more terrible machines, as more and more were drawn to the biggest fight in the galaxy, surpassing even the Third Armageddon War, which had, without the presence of the Warlord Ghazghkull quieted down into a state of mere war. As Abaddon's hosts fought and slew each other in the anarchic territories of Obscurus, even as Lorgar howled his triumph upon San Leor, the Orks of Octarius, now directed by Ghazghkull, self-proclaimed Prophet of Gork and Mork, fought endlessly upon Octarius and its surrounding worlds against the Hive Fleet and its tendrils.**

The Emperor made a decree, "OK, NO MATTER HOW BAD THE THREAT OF THE TYRANIDS GET WE DO NOT USE KRYPTMAN'S GAMBIT." No one in the room disagreed with him. None of the Primarchs wanted to encounter these horrible things born of this war. Not even Angron, and for once the butcher nails did not punish him for those thoughts.  
**  
Meanwhile, on the fringes of the galaxy, curious events were occurring. Rumours spread of entire tendril-fleets of the Tyranid Hive being obliterated by bizarre crescent-shaped ships with strange markings upon them. Rumours spread of whole worlds covered in eldritch super-scientific technologies. Had the Imperium still survived, this would have been seen as the hand of the unliving Necrons. But the Imperium had been torn asunder - while order still reigned somewhat tentatively in Ultima and Tempestus (although rule was spread amongst many Imperial successors), Obscurus was lost and Solar was a hive of anarchy that was threatened by the legions of the Holy Tyrant. And so the rumours went unadknowledged and un-acted upon, for the Imperial Navy had been reduced to void-clans and scavenger-fleets.**

Again, the room quaked with unease. None but the tech priest could really feel fear, but they could still feel wary. Two things that struck wariness into the God like beings who ruled the Imperium, and those were the twin threats of the Necrons and thee Tyranids.  
**  
And so it was in Octarius that the Silent King played his hand. He was Lord of the Necrontyr, and he knew especially of the threat of the Tyranids. A millennium he had spent on his plan - and now was the time to set it into motion. At Seidon's stasis-docks, he put a new master program into place - one that returned control to his personal fleet. To the Necrontyr homeworld he moved, a rogue planet near the core of the galaxy, long tectonically inactive, its star's light long guttered out. And he created it anew. It was hollowed out, and a tiny, infinitesimal fragment of a star's core placed within, to power the weapons he was going to place upon it. Arc-lightning cannons the size of cities, along with more arcane weapons, gauss-beamers and particle-blasters capable of scouring worlds. A legion of his royal guard was placed upon it. Its purpose was simple - war.**

The sight of the war world was awe inspiring.  
**  
The Silent King's war-world was completed in six months, a planet converted to be an engine of destruction, a weapon of war against the Tyranids. It appeared in Octarius in 770.M41, and unleashed Hell upon Leviathan. The Necrons acted methodically on the surface, purging the synapse-creatures of the Tyranid host first amongst all the others. Weapons not seen since the War in Heaven devoured whole star systems infected by their taint in black holes. Hive Fleet Leviathan threw all its bio-mass at the Necrons, but against such powerful weapons their victory was impossible. It was wiped out in little under two years. The galaxy wondered, but the Silent King had work to do. He led his war-fleet into the vast gulfs of intergalactic space, to hold an undying vigil and hunt down the Tyranid fleets before they reached this galaxy. It was all the Silent King could do to forgive himself for what he had done to his race.**

The Emperor felt a pang of sympathy for the Silent King, and the Tech Priest muttered something about Behemoth and Leviathan dueling as the end times begin.****

**On the forsaken tomb-world of C'zall, the Infinite maintained his collection. Artefacts from across the ages - the last living spirit-stone of a long-dead Farseer, the corpse of Roboute Guilliman recently-acquired, an ornate power-weapon from Talassar - and a giant of a man held in stasis, clad in white, gold-trimmed, baroque power-armour. He lived still, yet not in the minds of the galaxy's inhabitants. Not like his Brothers. They were remembered - but they had also fallen, most of them. All save one, who lived and fought still. It is not known what attracted the Eldar harlequins to that benighted world, home of Trazyn the Infinite. What is known is that they came as a war-host. The Solitaire, the Death Jesters, the Great Harlequins all assailed this world. And they were assisted, by Space Marines clad in dark-blue, green-trimmed power armour, bearing a curious emblem not unlike the letter 'A'. The Alpha Legion, who had aided Abaddon's Fourteenth Crusade and then, some claim, suddenly acted to tear it apart.**

Roboute looked sick, which was a logical response to seeing your own corpse put on display in a museum. But the room fell silent as they saw the second primarch.  
**  
They fought their way through to the deepest catacombs, where they recovered a cube of black stone the size of a man's fist. It would be vital if their plan was to have effect. And they shattered the stasis-field around the baroque-armoured man. 'Come,' they said. 'Follow us, into the Labyrinth'. He followed, more out of confusion than anything else, into the Webway, the Labyrinth Dimension of the Eldar. Greatly had it decayed - yet there were still paths to everywhere in the galaxy, if one but looked. Led by a Harlequin, they navigated the dangerous passages of the Labyrinth, through temporal anomalies and tribes of long-lost degenerates, through spatial impossibilities and insane geometries. They saw glimpses - Terra being besieged by the Warmaster so long ago, battles of ages long-past - for the Web ran not only through space, but through time as well. They saw the Emperor's gene-forges where he had made his Primarchs and the Thunder-Warriors, glimpses of possible futures and of aborted timelines.**

The Emperor's eyes widened at this revelation. He hadn't truly realized that the Webway could be used for time travel. He would have to increase the strength of the Wards upon the Webway project even more.  
**  
Then, they explained.**

**'What is the purpose of this?' the giant asked as they navigated labyrinths of inertia and possibility.**

**'It is the Third, your brother,' the Harlequin explained. 'Long have we waited to set this plan in motion. Though his body has been taken and his soul trapped, we are not without hope.'**

Fulgrim was surprised and he noted, "There talking about me."  
**  
'Why?'**

**'We have seen that there is no other way for all life to endure the coming storm. We are leading you to the world named after the great battle at the end of all things; to the space and the time where we can recover the Third. Trust us.'**

**And so they continued, to Armageddon at the culmination of the Fourth War for that woe-struck world.**

As the video ended, the Tech Priest snarked, "That place cant seem to catch a break."


	44. prince of the eye 25

from now on, if I have a schedule slip just assume I was distracted. that's almost certainly what happened.

this was made by Zahariel

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-22#post-65294481

s/13366753/25/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started up the video.

**War of the Infernal Suns**

The tech priest murmured, "Sounds interesting."  
**  
Maeleum Datum : M33**

**Of all the Traitor Legions, the Thousand Sons held the least territory within the Eye of Terror. Their diminished numbers and the defeat of the Crimson Accords had left them with but a handful of daemon worlds under their control, all within striking distance of Sortiarius itself. These worlds had been reshaped by sorcery into nigh-impregnable strongholds, the size and complexity of which would not have shamed Perturabo himself. Within these fortresses, guarded by elite Rubricae, armies of mortal soldiers, bound daemons and stranger, darker things, the sons of Magnus worked.**

Magnus had mixed feelings about the state of his legion.  
**  
The servants of Tzeentch were disproportionally active in the Long War, thanks to their mastery of sorcery. In the repressive Imperium, many secret lodges pursuing knowledge for its own sake had blossomed under their distant influence, while cults that worshipped mutation as a boon rather than a curse flourished in the twisted underclasses. But many among the sons of Magnus still hungered for revenge against the Sixteenth Legion and its Primarch, both for the destruction of Prospero and their humiliation in the Legion Wars. However, they were bitterly aware of how outmatched their Legion was in the Eye of Terror compared to the Horusians. Within their realm, the Thousand Sons were strong enough that none dared attack them, but they lacked the means to go on the offensive.**

Once more Magnus and Russ glared at each other while Horus looked guilty.  
**  
A group of nine Sorcerers, knowing this, designed a plan to change the situation. In order to match the Warmaster's armies, the Fifteenth Legion needed more resources – more territory – more worlds. And while the Thousand Sons had expanded as much as they could, there were plenty of rich systems outside the Eye of Terror.**

Roboute nodded in approval. Those were very good observations, very logical.  
**  
So was founded the Conspiracy of the Stars, a brotherhood whose purpose was to draw entire Imperial star systems into the Eye of Terror, using sorcery on a grand scale to deliver them within the borders of the Fifteenth Legion's territory.**

Rogal bluntly stated, "I have a feeling that this will backfire on them spectacularly." Perturabo punched Rogal particularly hard this time.  
**  
The nine Sorcerers targeted a trio of prosperous star systems, with a stable, self-sustaining population and a developed industrial base. Then they set to work, using all the methods their Legion had perfected during the Long War and inventing a few new ones. Wary of interference, they left their Legion's domain and ventured into the depths of the Eye of Terror, far from any stellar object whose influence may have disturbed their work, and set up a trio of warded stations from where they could weave their schemes in peace and seclusion.**

**Three Sorcerers remained within each of these stations, each team focused on a different system. With the sons of Magnus reaching through the Empyrean, discontent, heresy and outright rebellion soon festered. Covens of unbound psykers grew, aided by the guidance of distant, transhuman benefactors. As unrest grew, kept from the Inquisition's notice by high-placed pawns, the Conspiracy began to weave its great scheme. Cultist cells were taught rituals that would, their benefactors claimed, usher in a new age of freedom and progress for their worlds – though they would require the ultimate sacrifice from the faithful, whose devotion would be rewarded with transcendence.**

The tech priest snarked a name that had a dark meaning to the Emperor and was meaningless for the primarchs, "Jonestown."  
**  
The actual purpose of these rituals was to infuse each of the stars at the heart of the three systems with empyric power. The existence of the Mandeville Point had long proven that astral objects influenced the boundary between Materium and Immaterium, and the cabal of astromancers wanted to turn the immense power contained within a star to tear that boundary down and drag the systems to the Eye of Terror directly, where their populations and resources could be claimed by the Fifteenth Legion.**

Jagathai noted, "The hubris of your sons is impressive Magnus. To move the very stars themselves is folly." Magnus had no response, for he knew the Khan was right.  
**  
The three outposts were expanded, with great runic arrays attached to the central chambers where the Conspirators sat in meditation, their astral selves projected beyond the Eye of Terror. Cultists and bound daemons engraved sorcerous sigils, writing down the counterparts to the hymns their masters whispered in the souls of their distant servants. It was not enough, after all, simply to drown the targeted systems in the Warp – they had to be dragged into the Eye of Terror and anchored there.**

Fulgrim, a scholar of the Dark Age of technology in his quest to understand his enemies, observed the flaw in there plan, "They are messing with stellar forces, that in itself is dangerous. Factor in the instability of the Eye and of psychic powers and you've got a recipe for disaster."  
**  
Unbeknownst to the sons of Magnus, however, their great work had been sabotaged. Agents, perhaps belonging to the Warmaster, or to the Hydra, or to any other of the Eye's myriad factions, had learned of the Conspiracy's goals. They had reported their findings to their masters, and those masters had decreed that the Sorcerers could not be allowed to succeed and upset the delicate balance of the Eye's powers.**

Ferrus shook his head, "And of course Chaos makes a situation worse."  
**  
Yet directly attacking the Conspiracy would restart the Legion Wars, and so sabotage was chosen instead. It did not take much : the ritual the Conspiracy intended was mindbogglingly complex, and it took very little to disrupt the vast array of runes and sacrifices it required – though much more effort was needed to ensure the Sorcerers did not notice it until it was too late.**

Russ noted, "Any ritual of sufficient size requires only the smallest disruption to cause it to fail." Jagathai and Magnus both turned to the barbarian king with questioning looks in there eyes. Russ just shrugged and said, "When you hunt witches you tend to learn stuff about magic."  
**  
However, even the saboteurs did not realize the impact their actions would have. They thought, not without reason, that the ritual would fail, and the backlash would destroy the Conspiracy and discourage any from following in their footsteps. And if the three target systems were obliterated in the process, well, weakening the Imperium was always a victory in the Long War. As long as they were far from the ritual when it occurred, there was no reason to be worried.**

Sanguinus said what the room was thinking, "But you live in a place where reason is non existent. So of course it screws up."  
**  
But that was not what happened. Perhaps the sheer scope of the Conspiracy's ambition had caught the attention of the Changer of Ways, who would not allow it to come to such an unsatisfying end. Or perhaps the Conspiracy had already been betrayed from within, by one who sought to use the ritual to achieve transcendental power. Or perhaps – just perhaps – it was naught but the result of random chance, of mortal agents meddling in matters complex beyond their understanding. Such things happen, even in the Realm of the Gods.**

The tech priest noted, "My money is on random chance." Mortarion rumbled grimly, "My money is on betrayal." Konrad stated, "Well I think it was Tzeentch."  
**  
The ritual began as had been planned. Across the three star systems, cults set in motion schemes decades in the making. Disorder and anarchy spread on hive-worlds, while the magi and witches seized ships and made for the sun of their system. There, they performed a ritual sacrifice, offering up their own souls to empower the Conspiracy's great ritual. The three suns pulsed crimson, and the veil between reality and unreality was rent asunder, dragging everything within the stars' gravitational pull into the Warp. There, the sympathetic connection created by the Conspiracy dragged the systems toward the Eye of Terror, where they emerged from the roiling, Sector-sized mass of Warp energy brought into being by the ritual.**

The tech priest made a motion roughly translating to "Three, two, one."  
**  
It was then that the sabotage took effect. The souls of the nine Sorcerers were ripped from their bodies and cast into the stars they had stolen. There, they fused with the mass of shapeless thoughts and memories that had been the shades of their cultists. Though the individuality of the Sorcerers' mortal pawns had been completely consumed, the dogma with which they had been manipulated remained.**

One thought entered all the minds of those in the room. This is gonna be bad.  
**  
The result of this unholy fusion was the creation of three sentient, living suns, whose broken minds whole-heartedly believed in the astral theology the Sorcerers had used to deceive their cultists. Their light fell upon the stolen Imperial worlds, and all those touched by their rays had their free will stripped away, their souls branded with an awful mark that compelled lavish obedience to the skyward gods. The terror of having been dragged into the Eye of Terror vanished, along with most of their minds, leaving behind little but automatons, puppets of their star-gods.**

The tech priest was reminded of a video game where you played as a hollow bug fighting an infection spread by a light god.  
**  
The living suns took their servants and reshaped them into new forms, born from the depths of their insanity. Flesh melted like wax under their light, and abominations rose to unholy life. The spires of Imperial hives, most exposed to the radiance due to being above the pollution clouds, were the most affected. The nobles who had grown wealthy on the work of their serfs were hideously transformed, the light burrowing deep into their flesh and soul to create Myrmidons. Their faces and features were burned away, and their nerves glowed beneath their skin with the light that had travelled up their optic nerves and throughout their entire bodies. Little more than puppets of the living suns, the Myrmidons served as reservoirs of their light, carrying it beyond their immediate reach and unleashing it through their blazing eye sockets.**

Vulkan looked ready to vomit.  
**  
The living suns also imposed their will upon the raw stuff of the Warp, forcing a twisted order upon it to create a new kind of daemon. They reached deep into Mankind's ancient nightmares to find the shape that suited their needs, and created legions of devils, pale-skinned and clad in scorched-black armor. They walked on cloven feet, and in their clawed hands they held spears tipped with slivers of the nameless dread that compels mortals to kneel before altars in supplication.**

Lorgar paled and the tech priest made the sign of the cross.  
**  
The thee infernal suns were not satisfied with their dominion, however. Their insanity demanded that they rule all that there was to rule, for their gestalt minds believed that this was their right, their duty, their purpose. Stolen cargo ships and Imperial Navy patrols were brought near the suns, and they infused their metal with their power, twisting their crew hideously, fusing them to their stations and creating things that resembled daemonships yet were unmistakably other.**

The Emperor honestly felt uneasy at the sight of these things.  
**  
Vast factories were transformed to create millions of mirrors, which were brought as close to the living suns as possible without melting. Exposed to their baleful light, these mirrors became reservoirs of their power, which were carried as weapons to nearby daemon worlds. All those exposed to their radiance succumbed to the same affliction that had conquered the three stolen Imperial systems.**

Corax and Konrad fished out there sunglasses.  
**  
"Join us. Your resistance only makes this more painful for you than it has to be. You need only put down your weapons and welcome the light within your heart. Then, all shall be well, and all manners of things shall be well."**

**Inferna Astra broadcast**

**But the Damned would not meekly surrender their kingdoms unto these pretender-gods. The Inferna Astra, as they quickly came to be called, made great initial gains, conquering several dozen daemon worlds. But soon the might of the Legions, the Lost and the Dark Mechanicum gathered against them. None, not even the Thousand Sons themselves, would submit to the Infernal Suns, and so war erupted once again across the Eye of Terror.**

Sanguinius noted, "for all there loathsome qualities, you have to admit they are resilient."  
**  
It was a strange coalition that gathered to fight the minions of the Infernal Suns. Warriors who had bled together during the Great Crusade and the Heresy, only to become mortal foes in its catastrophic aftermath, were made allies once more by circumstances and a common enemy. So abhorrent was the rapture visited by the Inferna Astra upon their slaves that all hatreds were, if not abandoned, then at the very least put on hold.**

Angron grunted, "We are lucky that is the best Chaos forces have in terms of alliance."  
**  
The gates of the Horusian Dominion opened, and the forces of the Warmaster sallied forth. The Dark Council of Sicarius called the Hosts to crusade against the heretical gods. The Plague Fleets were marshalled under Mortarion's banner. A cold signal was spread from one Dark Mechanicum enclave to another, bearing the mark of Kelbor-Hal himself, summoning his once-vassals to war. The armies of the Hexarch, who had once been an Imperial Army General, clashed against the Infernal Suns' light-daemons on three different daemon worlds, winning victory after victory until the Hexarch herself broke the power of the Myrmidons leading the legions.**

The tech priest let out a "hmm". He had wondered what had happened to Kelbor Hal after the Horus Heresy.  
**  
Sorcerers designed wards that shielded combatants from the influence of the Inferna Astra's radiance, and one by one their banners were cast down from the daemon worlds they had conquered. But while the conquests of the Inferna Astra could be reclaimed, all Sorcerers within the Traitor Legions concurred that attacking the Infernal Suns within the heart of their power was suicide at best, and an offering of new slaves at worst. Yet so long as the Infernal Suns endured, they would remain capable of drawing limitless armies from the raw stuff of the Warp itself.**

**And so Horus turned to his brother Perturabo, to whom he had entrusted the Forge of Souls after claiming it from the Masters, and bade the Lord of Iron to craft a weapon that could murder the abominable stars.**

Perturabo grinned, for all his hatred of chaos he was still honored that it was he who could forge the doom of even the stars themselves.  
**  
The agents who had sabotaged the ritual, kept hidden since its disastrous advent, were quietly transferred to the Forge of Souls, and all they knew from the Inferna Astra was ripped from their souls and used to design the means to undo the poisoned fruit of their failures. By the time their chained bodies reached Medrengard, all knowledge of their true masters had already been excised from their minds – lest the fragile coalition risk being torn apart by recrimination and blame for causing the War in the first place.**

Everyone in the room could see that happening.  
**  
Perturabo bent his cold intellect to the task, combining the knowledge extracted from the saboteurs with the dark lore he had learned in the days since he had led his Legion through the Eye's black heart and secrets from the terrible war that ended Humanity's Age of Technology. In the deepest quarters of the Forge of Souls, where only the Masters had ever set foot before, the Lord of Iron and his mechanized minions created a bomb of awful potency, one capable of extinguishing a star.**

The bomb was surprisingly similar to the atomic bomb. Whether this was design of coincidence was unknown.  
**  
The coalition's forces laid siege to one of the three Infernal Suns, keeping its minions at bay while a suicidal task force was sent to detonate the bomb as close to the star as possible.**

**It worked. The bomb exploded, and the living sun was slain, turned into a dead black hole. But at the moment of its demise, its shriek ravaged the entire system, murdering every single creature within it. In a single moment, thousands of Chaos Marines and millions of mortal slaves perished, and the agony of their demise created a host of feral Neverborn roaming across the system's desolated worlds and the ruins of their ships.**

The tech priest played Taps, but quickly stopped when the Emperor glared at him.  
**  
Amidst the recriminations and accusations of sabotage, one thing was clear : the coalition couldn't pay a similar price to kill the remaining two Inferna Astra, not without significantly weakening the Eye of Terror in the Long War. And so, for the first time since the beginning of the war, Horus left Maeleum and journeyed to the domain of the living suns. The Prince of the Eye made a simple offer to the pretender-gods : they could either remain confined within their home territory, left alone and free to revel in their own absolute power – or they could continue to seek dominion over the Eye, in which case he would destroy them, regardless of the cost.**

Horus knew that he would go through with this promise.  
**  
Despite their madness, the living suns remembered Horus, and knew that the Warmaster would not hesitate to make good on his threats if he were pushed. Faced with the awesome power of the Prince of the Eye and the knowledge that their kindred had already been slain, they relented and acceded to Horus' offer. A blockade was established around the two Inferna Astra to make sure they held to the terms of the accords, and the coalition quickly dissolved, with the first shots being fired within minutes of Horus' return and announcement.**

A small bet had been made about how long it would take before the coalition betrayed each other. For once the tech priest didn't win, as he had bet a few seconds after the suns were cowed. The primarchs all gave Vulkan the agreed amount of thrones.  
**  
In the following years, the Inferna Astra mostly kept to the terms of the peace. As Horus had known they would, they still sought to extend their dominion, building small ships that slipped by the quarantine, carrying light-infused mirrors and disguised Myrmidons. A new player appeared in the endless games of intrigue of the Eye, and the Infernal Suns even used their ancient knowledge to reach into the dreams of mortals beyond the Eye, finding it easy to corrupt those offshoots of the Ecclesiarchy that took the form of solar cults.**

The tech priest said, "I don't even need to make the politics joke."  
**  
As the thirty-third millennium drew to a close, the Inquisition learned of this new aspect of the Archenemy, and the Ordo Hereticus developed means to detect such corruption, while the Ordo Malleus investigated the strange daemons such cults eventually brought into the Materium and learned how to destroy them.**

The video ended and the Emperor summed up everyone's thoughts, "I NEED A DRINK."


	45. notice

I have been busy. and I have decided to switch up the schedule of updates. instead of two times a week, this fic will be whenever I feel like it. Which is the update schedule of all my fics. sorry to any I have disappointed.


	46. i'm still here

Though forever bound to this merry go round, i'm still here.

ok seriously, I am sorry for the lack of updates. I am lazy and have a short attention span. ever since I started writing non Warhammer fics, I have been filled with ideas. I have written for a hat in time, and I have other ideas. in fact, just today I have been inspired by mastercaster, or someone along those lines, to make a raven house au for the owl house. but I intend to do another post here sometime this week. just to slate your thirst for Warhammer goodness.

by the by, that line at the top is from endigo's song I'm still here.


	47. prince of the eye 26

ok, I haven't updated this in a while. but I have been distracted by various things. I will try to update this at least once a month, but I make absolutely no promises.

Prince of the eye was made by Zahariel.

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-23#post-66421559

s/13366753/26/Prince-of-the-Eye

* * *

The tech priest started up the holo-viewer and the imperial family settled in.

**The Lost Fleet**

All who traveled the warp knew of story's about those ships that were lost in the Warp, but it was doubtful that the title referred to a fleet of such unfortunates.  
**  
Maeleum Datum : 758.M33**

**While it is their names that history remembers most, the Traitor Legions were far from the only forces Horus rallied to his banner during his rebellion against the Emperor. From the Knight Houses to the Rogue Traders, from the Imperial Army to the bloodlines of the Navigators, all who had once held Imperial allegiance had been forced to choose between the Emperor and the Warmaster – and those who had attempted neutrality had often learned its perils at the latter's hands. Even the loyalists hadn't been above forcing the hand of those who sought to remain uninvolved, once the war had become desperate enough.**

Shame once more filled Horus at the reminder of his sins.  
**  
Arguably the greatest of the forces that were divided during the Heresy (with only the Mechanicum itself contending for that position) was the Imperial Army. Re-uniting the scattered kingdoms of Humanity in the Great Crusade had been the effort of untold billions, from the soldiers charging at xenos walls to the pilots of fighter squadrons. The Imperial Army had been an incredibly complex organization, a behemoth composed of many parts that had worked together to bring the galaxy to heel before being torn asunder and turned against itself. And none of these parts had wielded as much destructive power as the branch of it that manned the hundreds of thousands of ships needed to carry the armies of Humanity across the stars and battle the armadas of the xenos and the uncompliant.**

The tech priest repeated something that had become a meme in recent years, "Astarte cant hold ground."  
**  
In the Imperium, that branch of the Imperial Army had become the Imperial Navy following the sundering of the Great Crusade's mighty host after Horus' rebellion. Within the Eye of Terror, things were at once simpler and more complicated. The fleets that had fled from the defeat at Terra had gathered once more in the Eye under the banner of the Traitor Legions and the Dark Mechanicum, with a few remaining independent as raiders under the command of charismatic warlords.**

After hearing the statement of things being simpler yet more complex in the Eye, The tech priest snarked, "Isn't that always the case with Chaos?" The primarchs who would have fallen to Chaos had the holovids not been found gave agreements to this.  
**  
In the beginning of the traitors' exile, with the invasion of the Eye of Terror and the Legion Wars raging, there had been plenty of work to occupy these ships and their crews. But as the Long War shifted to intrigue and long-term corruption, the fleets that had once set fire to the Imperium found themselves losing the favor of their transhuman overlords.**

Corax murmured, "Makes sense. Starships and shadow warfare don't exactly mix."  
**  
Instead of the glory and conquest they had been promised, the Captains and Admirals had been relegated to what amounted to guard duty in a space where their beloved ships were slowly being warped around them, their corridors infested with manifested Neverborn that needed regular purging lest they overtake entire decks. With the great minds of the Traitor Legions focused on finding new ways to destabilize the Imperium from within, the brutes and failures were sent to oversee ships whose only sight of action was the occasional engagement with enemy scouts or unaligned raiders.**

Roboute had mixed feeling about that. Yes, he would probably do the same thing were the situations reversed, but surely the corrupted Horus realized. His thoughts were cut off by the next part of the holovid.  
**  
Slowly, far from the sight of the Chaos Marines, discontent grew among the Chaos armadas. Daemons whispered into the ears of captains and bridge officers, murmuring of the glory and riches they were being denied, of how the Warmaster's change of tactics had left them behind. Oh, one day their time would come – when the Imperium was breaking apart from within and the gates of the Eye were thrown open wide. But why should they wait on the pleasure of fallen Angels who had already failed once ?**

Roboute's suspictions were confirmed. If he somehow ever was in that position, or a similar one, he would at least try to ensure the Daemons couldn't whisper poison in the ears of mortals.  
**  
To the ship officers of the Horusian Dominion, things were even worse. Under the effects of the Theft of Time, age was catching up to them, although at a slowed down rate. Rejuvenat treatments improved upon by Apothecaries and Sorcerers kept those veterans of the rebellion whose expertise was too valuable to lose alive, but they were few and far between – new academies had been built to replace the rest, where knowledge was extracted from the brains of the dead and forcibly implanted into the minds of their successors.**

Magnus nodded at this new information. He had suspected something like that would happen. After all, it was the timeless nature of the eye and other Warpstorms that allowed the traitors to attack the Imperium in the 41st mellinium despite having been around during the Great Crusade. He knew his father's genecraft would allow for biological Immortality, and there were other ways to prolong life both acceptable and heretical (for lack of a better word). But these ways were costly, and few could afford the cost of a Rejuvenant treatment, which was by far the safest way to add centuries to a human.  
**  
Over the course of centuries, those few ageless officers formed a great conspiracy aimed at reclaiming their freedom. They were lead by Admiral Yraeg, a decorated veteran of the Great Crusade and the Heresy. Yraeg had been there when the fleets of the allied Traitor Legions had opened fire on the Iron Hands, Raven Guard and Salamanders at Istvaan V, and had fought under the Warmaster's banner during the Siege to break the Imperial Fists' defense spheres.**

Angron muttered, "Fucking High-Riders."  
**  
As charismatic as he was cunning, Yraeg extended the conspiracy, reaching out to those few independent raiders who remained. He played the Chaos Marine overseers of the fleet against each other, preying upon their own resentment and grudges. Caught in their own intrigues, the Sons of Horus did not notice the betrayal being planned under their noses until it was too late.**

Alpharius/Omegon silently wondered if this Yraeg guy had some training under there own agents. His actions were straight out of there playbooks.  
**  
When Yraeg judged he was ready, his first move was devastating. Across dozens of warships, those loyal to the Warmaster were assassinated. Chaos Marines were cut down by focused las-fire, high explosives, or daemons summoned and bound by paid warlocks. The assistants of Sorcerers sabotaged their masters' rituals, and Legion vessels attached to former Imperial Army flotillas were obliterated as their erstwhile allies turned on them without warning.**

The more pro-astarte primarchs were reminded that Humanity was powerful by the sight of Chaos Marines being cut down by mere humans.  
**  
Using the very properties of the Theft of Time, Yraeg was able to synchronize these acts of rebellion across a dozen systems of the Horusian Dominion. Within a few days, thousands of Sons of Horus had perished, dozens of ships had been lost, several fortresses and centers of industry had been reduced to molten slag, and an armada of over three hundred vessels was mustering under the banner of Admiral Yraeg.**

Rogal noted, "I believe this is the lost fleet the title referred to." Once more Perturabo hit him.  
**  
"The age of the Astartes is over.**

**The Legions have failed. We need not heed their commands any longer.**

**Horus is a petty tyrant, sitting on his throne on Maeleum – no different from his father. We must take our destiny into our own hands if we are to claim the glory that is our birthright."**

Horus quietly muttered, "He isn't wrong." The Emperor put his arm around Horus to comfort his son.  
**  
Admiral Yraeg**

**When word of the rebellion reached Maeleum, Horus' fury was beyond measure. The Prince of the Eye summoned his son Abaddon before him, and tasked him with destroying this uprising – but Yraeg himself, warned the Primarch, was to be delivered to him alive, or if that wasn't possible, his shackled soul. Accompanied by Ahriman of the Cabal, the First Captain of the Sixteenth Legion left Maeleum at the head of a massive Legion fleet, where every ship's crew had been culled of any who may symphatize with the rebels.**

Roboute mentally noted that this was what he would do if he were in that situation.  
**  
For three years, Abaddon's fleet hunted down Yraeg's rebels, but the Admiral managed to elude the First Captain at every turn, leaving behind him a trail of plundered and razed strongholds. Scouts separated from the main bulk of the rebels were caught and destroyed, but Yreag's numbers actually grew as new ships rallied to his banner. Flotillas from the Night Lords, Iron Warriors and Dark Mechanicum allies of the Warmaster came to Abaddon's assistance, eventually cornering the rebel Admiral.**

Konrad had to admit a silent respect for Yraeg. Oh he hated this guy, as he did all of Chaos, but even he had to admit it was impressive.  
**  
With his back against the Sundered Tides that walled off the Horusian Dominion from the rest of the Eye of Terror, it seemed Admiral Yreag would be forced into a last stand. Despite his prodigious talent at void warfare, the Admiral's fleet was outnumbered three to one and had no Astartes to defend against boarding actions – something which had been its most glaring weakness during the entire campaign.**

Mortarion snarked, "Yes, a lack of Astartes is a weakness in an anti-Astarte rebellion." Dorn meanwhile said, "Did that even need to be stated." Perturabo hit Dorn before anyone could stop him, for the Inwit native had raised a good point.  
**  
"This needs not be the end, Admiral."**

**"What do you want ?"**

**"Only for you to realize your full potential …"**

The Emperor paled and griped his chair tighter. He knew that voice, but where had he heard it.  
**  
By this point, Abaddon's desire to crush the rebel Admiral was almost as great as his Primarch's fury at the man's rebellion. The First Captain was determined to lead the attack on Yreag's flagship in person – but he also wanted to make sure none of the rebels would survive. An example needed to be made so that none would ever dare emulate Yreag's treachery in the future. The entirety of the rebel fleet would be killed, down to the last deck ratling, and every ship would be torn asunder and its debris left to float in the system, cursed by Sorcerers so that no scavenger would ever touch it. Abaddon made sure his prey knew this, broadcasting his intent on an open vox-channel.**

Horus was conflicted, as were some of the more amoral Primarchs. Yes an example needed to be made, and such cruelty was excessive. But none of the family would hesitate to do it. This worried them, for all the flaws of Chaos it typically didn't hide what it was. Chaos was evil, pure and simple. But strip away the excuses and ultimately Chaos and the Imperium were more alike than either would like to admit.  
**  
Leaving no path of escape, the Legion fleet closed in on the rebel armada, ready to begin the greatest battle within the Eye of Terror since the end of the Legion Wars. Then, on his command bridge, faced with the prospect of defeat and unending torment at the hands of the Prince of the Eye, Admiral Yreag made his choice.**

**"I … sacrifice."**

**Last recorded transmission from the Unbridled Fury, Admiral Yreag's flagship.**

**All of a sudden, Sorcerers across the Legion armada cried out as the Sundered Tides erupted. Planet-sized gouts of Warp-stuff engulfed the entire rebel armada, while the Legion ships desperately retreated from the cataclysm. And then, just as suddenly as it had happened, the Tides surged back – taking with them any trace of Admiral Yreag's rebel fleet.**

No one in the room belived for a second this fleet was gone.  
**  
The aftershocks of this event echoed across the entire Dominion, and the Cabal had to work hard and sacrifice thousands of slaves to correct the anomalies that appeared in the sorcerous architecture of the Theft of Time. Abaddon returned to Maeleum and knelt before the Warmaster's throne, confessing his failure behind closed doors. What punishment Horus inflicted upon his son remains unknown, but a week later, the doors of the throneroom opened and the First Captain emerged, seemingly unwounded, never to speak of what had transpired within.**

Many horrible ideas ran through Horus's mind, and he knew that at least of week of nightmares consisting of him torturing Abbadon would await him.  
**  
After repairing the damage to the Theft of Time, the Cabalites began to search for the Lost Fleet, as Yreag's rebel armada had since come to be called. They did not believe what had happened to be a random event – it had been too powerful and too localized. Spies across the Eye searched for any trace of the Lost Fleet, while Sorcerers interrogated Neverborn and cultists across the galaxy.**

Lorgar noted, "Whatever made that deal with Yreag was powerful, to say the least." The Emperor nodded.  
**  
Finally, they found it. Not long after the disappearance of the Lost Fleet, the Imperium had experienced a sudden surge in piracy in the region near the Warp Storm known as the Maelstrom. Entire merchant convoys had been slaughtered, most of their cargo – which was vitally needed by half a dozen hive-worlds – not even plundered, but simply blasted into space. As starvation and disorder spread across the sub-Sector, the Imperial Navy responded by intensifying its patrols, assisted by a local White Scars flotilla.**

Jagathai perked up at the mention of his sons.  
**  
After several small-scale engagements, the Imperial forces encountered the full might of the Chaos fleet present in the sub-Sector : an armada hundreds strong, composed of daemonships of ancient and twisted design. An entire Battlefleet was assembled to deal with this threat, but the Chaos armada withdrew before the hammer of Imperial retribution, fleeing into the Maelstrom where none dared to pursue them.**

The red cosairs were brought to mind by this description of a Chaos pirate armada lurking in the Maelstrom.  
**  
Before this retreat, however, several of the infernal vessels were boarded, and much information was collected by agents of the Inquisition. It was from these reports, once Horusian spies had gained access to them, that the servants of the Warmaster pieced together what had happened – though the how and why of it all yet eluded them.**

**Admiral Yreag had been elevated to daemonhood, one of few mortals to claim that honor since the Traitor Legions had dedicated themselves to the Ruinous Powers. Those who had followed him in his rebellion against the Prince of the Eye, however, had not been so lucky. The Warp had turned them into hollow-eyed automatons, their wills annihilated and replaced by unquestioning obedience to their Daemon Prince Admiral. The similarities between these wretches and the damned souls of Kerlazium did not go unnoticed by the scholars of the Eye, who pondered at the implications of this at length without coming to any clear conclusion.**

The Emperor started to ponder why so few mortals gained Daemonhood. Yes, his Space Marines were a lot stronger than a baseline human, but humans had been around longer and were more prone to serving the reality tumors. In addition, he, along with Magnus and Lorgar, filed away the simalarities between the automatons and the damned souls of the Night Haunters chaos home world in there minds for later pondering.  
**  
The last transmission from the Unbridled Fury – which was now a titanic daemonship, its captain having become fused to it and utterly enslaved to Yreag's will – seemed to indicate that the renegade Admiral had willingly submitted his followers to this fate, whether to escape the Warmaster's wrath or to secure his own ascension.**

Once again Angron muttered, "Fucking High-Riders."  
**  
Upon learning of the Lost Fleet's fate, Horus ordered his servants to influence the Imperium in order to ensure its destruction, while also looking into ways to reach the Maelstrom from within the Eye of Terror. Although the Webway Network had been damaged beyond repair when the Fall of the Eldar had occurred, entire sections remained accessible if one was willing to risk the perils of the Neverborn infesting them, and the Warmaster believed that one such path might lead to the Maelstrom – and to the one who had dared break his oaths of loyalty to the Prince of the Eye.**

The Emperor groaned, "YET MORE PROBLEMS FOR MY WEBWAY PROJECT."  
**  
Despite those efforts, the Lost Fleet continued to haunt the Imperium for centuries. From within the Maelstrom, Yreag dispatched his deathless servants on raids across the neighbouring Sectors. In time, rumors began to spread among pirates and cultists. Though their source was never identified, these rumors claimed that, if one were to journey into the Maelstrom and swear one's soul to the Dark Admiral who dwelled there, they would be granted eternal existence as one of his servants – as well as their heart's desire. Other rumors spoke of the treasures Yreag had accumulated, plundered from the Horusian Dominion itself and from his years of pillaging since his ascension.**

Lorgar scoffed, "More chaos lies."  
**  
Thousands of greedy and ambitious fools made the journey to the Maelstrom in search of riches and immortality – whatever its form. Most were destroyed by the storms, but those few who successfully made their way to Yreag's fortress – the location of which was a secret seeded in fragmented hints across the Ultima Segmentum by the Daemon Prince – were richly rewarded. Desperate nobles and would-be pirate lords entered the Maelstrom and returned as Chaos Lords, holding the Dark Admiral's banner and plunging entire worlds into ruin.**

Lorgar quirked an eyebrow and muttered, "or maybe not."  
**  
So began a dark time for the Ultima Segmentum, which so far had benefited from the presence of the Five Hundred Worlds and Guilliman's leadership. The Ultramarines dedicated considerable resources to purging the Lost Fleet and destroying Yreag, but even the warrior-kings of Maccrage could not brave the tides of the Maelstrom. Guilliman commanded the construction of dozens of fortress-stations along the principal shipping lanes of the Segmentum and increased Navy patrols, but those measures could do little to stop the wave of heresy that spread under Yreag's influence.**

The tech priest made a dramatic proclamation, "Even under the guidance of a Primarch, holding closer to the Imperial truth than most, even Ultramar itself is not safe from the grim darkness and eternal war the Galaxy seems doomed to."  
**  
So it was that the Daemon Prince Yreag became another thorn in the Imperium's side, and a sworn enemy of Horus and his servants. Whenever the Lost Fleet encountered agents of the Traitor Legions, it immediately attacked them, without regard for any Imperial presence. And even when one of its daemonships were destroyed, they eventually came back, their hulks vanishing into the aether and reforming within the Dark Admiral's kingdom in the Maelstrom.**

The video ended with yet another threat to the future Imperium revealed.


	48. prince of the eye 27

sorry to make you wait folks. i have a lot on my plate, considering none of my stories are dead and the stuff unrelated to fanfiction.

s/13366753/28/Prince-of-the-Eye

threads/warhammer-40000-prince-of-the-eye-what-if-horus-had-survived-the-heresy.766753/page-24#post-69735900

* * *

the tech priest played the next video vile.

**The Darkness War**

It didnt seem possible, but Konrad paled even more as he muttered, "We're gonna see more of my sons."

**Maeleum Datum : 888.M33**

**In a chamber without light, atop a tower that rose far above the screams of Kerlazium's damned souls, two demigods with eyes of purest obsidian met.**

**Once, they had been brothers, and had fought side by side during the Great Crusade to bring unruly human worlds to compliance through terror. Later, they had spilled the blood of the Shattered Legions together on the black sands of Isstvan V, and waged war in the Thramas Crusade and the Siege of Terra. Only later, when the Eighth Legion had come to the Eye of Terror and claimed the daemon world of Kerlazium as their own, had their brotherhood begun to fray. As the Night Lords Legion had divided in two separate factions, each reflecting one aspect of their Primarch, the two brothers had also grown distant, each falling on a different side of the divide.**

Konrad started to weep for his sons. His heart might have been twisted and black even now that Chaos would never claim him or any other primarch, but he cared for his sons.

**Yet despite their differences and disagreements, they still met once every decade, to speak of the past, the present, and the future. And so it was that Apothecary Talos Valcoran of the Tenth Company met with Vandred Anrathi, once a Sergeant of that same company, who was now known as the Exalted.**

**In the years since the Night Lords had conquered Kerlazium, Talos had risen in prestige among the faction of the Legion who had refused to embrace Chaos and sought to continue waging the Long War against the hated Imperium. Under the leadership of Zso Sahaal, the Talonmaster, Talos had participated in dozens of battles during the Legion Wars. Through his actions and the visions of the future that haunted him, Talos had become a lord of the Vindicators, those sons of the Night Haunter who desired the ruin of the False Emperor and all His works.**

The Emperor glared a bit at Konrad for this, but there was no real hatred.

**By contrast, the Exalted had welcomed one of the Neverborn within his body, gaining the power of a Possessed Marine at the cost of his soul. The torture engines he had designed could extract the akhrali from thousands of damned with nightmarish efficiency, and had earned him enough wealth to claim a sizeable domain on Kerlazium, and the dubious loyalty of hundreds of Night Lords. Though lesser to the Daemon Princes like Acerbus Krieg, the Exalted was still highly ranked among the Dread Lords, as those of Curze's sons who had drunk deep of the Warp's cup called themselves.**

Mortarion had a small flashback to the witch kings of his homeworld.

**For centuries, the Vindicators and the Dread Lords had been at odds, with the occasional flare of violence. Only the presence of their Primarch, whose shadow fell across all of Kerlazium, had kept the Night Lords from destroying themselves – for even in his madness and isolation, Curze had aligned himself with Horus, and would not tolerate the loss of his Legion to internecine conflict. Or at least, so his sons believed – the pale, crazed creature that their gene-sire had become had never said anything to that effect outright.**

**Among the veterans of the Great Crusade and the Heresy, the Dread Lords outnumbered their saner brothers by a large margin, but the very powers they had indulged in also made them supremely fractious, and their territories on Kerlazium were wretched and desolate places, festering with civil wars waged by armies of the damned for the amusement of their tormentors. By contrat, the followers of the Long War were better organized and unified than the Eighth Legion had arguably ever been before, with a clear hierarchy and a strict discipline.**

Rogal noted, "Another advantage we have against Chaos." Perturabo hit him

**However, the vaster territories of the Dread Lords hosted untold millions of damned souls, and the Vindicators' need for akhrali far outstripped the production of their own torture facilities, forcing the followers of the Long War to trade with their more debased brothers. The Vindicators were also the faction controlling most of Kerlazium's orbital stations, where envoys from other powers within the Eye came to trade for akhrali, which contributed to the uneasy truce between the Vindicators and the Dread Lords.**

Lorgar just sated, "Uneasy is the only kind of peace Chaos can have."

**Powerful individuals on both sides of the divide desired to maintain this precarious balance, and it was with that aim that Talos and the Exalted met in one of the spires that jutted above the sprawling megalopolis that surrounded the palace of the King of the Night. Few of their brothers knew of the meeting – those who could be trusted not to let their disgust for the other faction overcome their common sense – and of those, even fewer knew its time and location.**

The tech priest snarked, "There smarter than the average Traitor Marine."

**"I understand that you don't have the kind of pull needed to get Askhol to stop raiding ships at the system's edge, Vandred. but – Wait. Something … Something is going to -"**

**The two Night Lords were deep in their decennial discussion when, without warning, an explosion blossomed in the middle of the spire atop which they met. The flare of the detonation burned the sensitive eyes of Night Lords and mortals across the megalopolis – the damned's spectral eyes did not feel anything, used as they were to much greater torments.**

It was at this point the tech priest started a little bet, which faction planted the bomb. The choices were the Vindicators, the Dread Lords, or an outside force.

**The top half of the spire fell, crashing into one of the greatest akhrali extraction factories of Kerlazium's capital – one of the few such structures whose control was shared between the Vindicators and the Dread Lords. The stocks of akhrali were caught in the destruction, and nameless horrors rose from the flames, spawned of the akhrali's eldritch energies and the final thoughts of the factory's workers.**

Magnus let out a little "Oof" at both the destruction itself and the things born of the fires.

**Within hours, accusations began to fly, with the tension skyrocketing once word of the meeting that had taken place there spread. Neither Talos nor the Exalted had been found after the explosion, and both factions began to accuse the other of arranging the attack. Despite the attempts of cooler heads among the Vindicators to de-escalate matters, the simple truth was that the Eighth Legion had ever been riven by distrust, petty grudges and hatred, and soon several of the Dread Lords declared that this insult would not go unpunished.**

Rogal noted, "Isnt that true of all Chaos factions?" Perturabo hit him

**Things may yet have calmed down, if not for the series of raids and attacks that quickly followed and that each side blamed on the other. In the border territories of the Dread Lords, the complex machinery of torture palaces was sabotaged, causing cascading failures that led to more daemonic outbreaks and even uprisings among the damned. Proeminent Night Lords were found dead in their chambers, murdered by bolters and energy weapons. Finally, the warship Echo of Damnation, one of the Vindicators' vessels in orbit of Kerlazium, went suddenly dark, refusing to answer any hail as it broke formation and opened fire on one of the trading orbital stations, sending its wreck burning through the daemonworld's atmosphere before the Echo was reclaimed by Vindicators' boarding parties, who found the crew dead and the bridge deserted.**

Corvus muttered, "Uprisings of the damned?" He knew a lot about uprisings, and from what he knew about those soul shells they shouldn't be capable of uprising.

**The actions of the Echo of Damnation were the catalyst for the animosity that had built up to that point. A last-ditch meeting between dignitaries of both factions degenerated into battle, and the preparations for open war began in earnest.**

Angron growled in antcipation

**Across Kerlazium, the Dread Lords summoned their armies. Hordes of the damned were armed with primitive weapons and herded toward the domains of the Vindicators by their cruel taskmasters. Monstrous things that had once been particularly evil souls and had been transformed by sorcerous experiments into ghastly beasts of shadow and rage were released from their prisons. Twisted warmachines designed by the Dark Mechanicum emerged from secret laboratories, fuelled by the unending torments of dozens of damned souls constantly tortured within their chassis in order to produce akhrali for their mechanisms to consume.**

The tech priest made the sign of the cross, and the Emperor allowed him to do so.

**Alongside these came the Dread Lords themselves : Possessed and Daemon Princes, with their accompanying Neverborn. Atop great machines of bone and metal, they looked upon their gathered hosts and smiled as they marched toward Kerlazium's capital city.**

Sanguinius murmured, "and so march the forces of hell."

**Meanwhile, Zso Sahaal had mustered the strength of the Vindicators, ostensibly to defend the capital and prevent the anarchy from reaching the Night Haunter's private palace at its center.**

Fulgrim shook his head, "The traitor night lords are savage mongrels, but even at there worse they would never turn on Konrad."

**Using technology purchased from the New Empire of Fabius Bile, the Vindicators had replenished the ranks of the Legion, which had been bled badly during the Horus Heresy. Entire space stations and Apothecarions had been dedicated to processing these new recruits, who rose from Ascension with no memory of their mortal lives.**

At the mention of Fabius Bile Fulgrim's mood soured.

**Over thirty thousand Legionaries descended from orbit to face the host of the Dread Lords, less than five thousands of them having lived through the rebellion against the False Emperor. With them came tanks, Dreadnoughts, Chaos Knights and Titans – the host of the Long War, marshalled for the first time in order to make war against the other half of the Eighth Legion's soul.**

The tech priest noted, "Thats a pretty good metaphor for this version of the Night Lords. you know, the soul waring with itself."

**Even at this point, messengers were dispatched to Kerlazium and the Primarch's palace, some begging for the Night Haunter to intervene and prevent the Night Lords from tearing themselves apart, others asking for his benediction for one side over the other. No response came, and the messengers themselves weren't heard from again. Rumors began to spread on both sides that Curze had abandoned his Legion, while others claimed that the Primarch was waiting to see who would emerge victorious, and recognize them as the rightful lords of the Eighth Legion.**

Konrad bit back his disgust and asked, "What is my counterpart doing?"

**Faced with the ranks of the Vindicators – who were far more numerous than they had previously believed – the Dread Lords unleashed their damned hordes, seeking to bleed the strength of their foes before committing their more powerful troops. Millions of incarnated souls charged the lines of the Night Lords, who tore them apart anew with massed bolter and artillery fire. Even so, the sheer numbers of the damned eventually carried them to the Vindicators' lines, and a brutal melee ensued.**

Angron took an Ibprofin as the Butcher Nails grew hungry.

**As the Night Lords Legion fought against itself, something stirred behind the walls. In the ruins of the tower whose collapse had begun the Darkness War, a figure emerged, clad in midnight blue. Despite numerous injuries, he had dug his way out of the rubble, all the way from depths the rescue efforts had judged impossible to survive. Before the wide eyes of a few onlookers – the slaves, living and damned, who had been set the task of clearing up the debris – Talos Valcoran burst from the earth, his cracked eye-lenses blazing with anger.**

The tech priest played a very posh british voice, "I always come back."

**The Apothecary quickly interrogated the terrified menials, and learned of the war unfolding outside the city. Cursing his brothers' short-sightedness, Talos still did not rush there. The vision that had struck him moments before the attempt on his life – which, it seemed, had successfully claimed the Exalted's – had intensified during his time beneath the ruins. As the Apothecary dug his way up, his mind had been haunted by a flow of visions, a series of dread revelations bestowed by the curse his gene-line had inflicted upon him. He knew what was happening across Kerlazium; he knew whose hand was behind it all; and he knew what their true goal was.**

**Leaving his Legion to kill itself, Talos rushed toward the city's center, where the Night Haunter's palace of screams stood. The first guards he found were dead, their bodies still warm. The Apothecary moved quickly, ignoring the pain of his injuries as he made his way to the sanctum of the palace – the Primarch's own quarters. On his way, he found more dead servants and Night Lords, all of whom looked to have been killed by surprise before they could defend themselves.**

**All signs pointed to an isolated assassin, who had used the confusion caused by the battle between Vindicators and Dread Lords to infiltrate the palace. The identity of its target was obvious to Talos – his mind's eye burned with visions of his gene-sire, seating on his throne of melted damned and still-living Imperial captives, smiling as he looked upon the descending blade of his killer.**

Alpharious/Omegon asked a question, "What could" "possibly kill" "a daemon primarch?"

**Driven by something that, in another soul, may have been called filial piety, Talos rushed to save his Primarch, disregarding stealth for speed. The Apothecary passed by many of the Eighth Legion's nightmarish wonders – the Sculpture of Silence, a hauntingly beautiful piece composed of thousands of human skulls of all sizes; the Throne of Blades, an execution device made from the hammered swords of dead Ultramarines; a painting of Nostramo's destruction realized by a blind slave in whose ears the Primarch had whispered while he worked; and many, many more. Any one of these relics would have driven a mortal man to abject terror, but the Night Lord ignored them all.**

The tech priest fear vomited at these nightmareish sights, and honestly everyone in the room (including Konrad) was only holding back there fear due to genetic engineer, psychic might or a mixture of the two.

**Finally, Talos caught up with the assassin, right before the gate of Curze's chambers. The corpses of two Chaos Terminators laid on the ground in a pool of blood, their throats cut before they could even see their killer. Talos, however, could see it plainly as it worked on the complex locks barring its passage into the room beyond. As the Apothecary approached, it turned to face him.**

**The assassin was an Eldar, hailing from the fabled Dark City of Commoragh. To its cruel and debased kind, it was known as the Blade of Ptesh, a figure of legend and terror even among that race's cruel elite. Of the billions of assassins that lived among the Drukhari sub-species, there were none more dreaded than the Blade of Ptesh, whose name took its roots in the mythology of the Eldar predating the Fall. Even among the Imperium, its name was known, for it was it that had murdered the Ecclesiarch Veneris II soon after his ascension to the rank of High Lord of Terra. A powerful sorcerous artefact hung from the xenos' neck, protecting its soul from the ravenous hunger of the Eye of Terror – without such a protection, its strength would have been drained in days, quickly followed by its soul.**

The Emperor's eyes widened, knowing that the Blade of Ptesh had (or would have) done two attempts on his life while he was trapped upon the Golden Throne.

**Talos saw all of this in the blink of an eye, the knowledge flashing before his eyes even as his brain burned from the onslaught of visions and blood leaked from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Overcoming the pain through an effort of will, the Night Lord drew his power blade, the stolen Blood Angel sword Aurum, and launched himself at the assassin.**

**By rights, the duel of Talos Valcoran and the Blade of Ptesh should have ended in moments. The Apothecary was strong, but he had never been one of his Legion's champions, and was wounded and exhausted besides. Furthermore, he was of the Vindicators, and had eschewed the boons of the Ruinous Powers. In contrast, the Blade of Ptesh was a millennia-old creature of murder and deceit, and though its speciality laid in striking from the shadows, unseen and unheard until it was too late, it was still a master of the less elegant aspects of killing as well. A cocktail of drugs brewed in the Dark City's abominable laboratories was combined with alterations made by master Haemonculi to push its abilities beyond the natural grace of the Eldar and into something greater.**

**Yet Talos managed to match the Dark Eldar's skills, his transhuman speed and reflexes aided by the torrent of split-second visions that still flowed through his skull. The Night Lord could see every move of the xenos before it made it, and this was just barely enough to block and dodge every blow of the Blade of Ptesh's toxin-covered knives.**

Angron took another Ibprofin

**Before the gate to Curze's chambers the two fought, their duel witnessed by no other soul. Eventually, Talos' visions showed him a path to victory. As blades clashed once more, the Apothecary adjusted his blow by the slightest angle, a motion that seemed born of exhaustion rather than intent. The Blade of Ptesh immediately seized the minute opening this created, and planted its dagger into Talos' right flank.**

**No sooner had the Commorite blade pierced ceramite and flesh that the assassin realized his mistake. Letting go of Aurum's handle, fighting his way through the agony of his new wound, Talos closed his hands around the Eldar's throat and began throttling him. The Drukhari fought, but was brought down and immobilized by Talos' greater strength and weight. As poisons designed to kill a Primarch flowed through his bloodstream, Talos kept the Blade of Ptesh pinned down as he strangled it.**

The tech priest made a pinging sound, and said to the Emperor, "My lord, if we could find those poisons, we could reverse engineer them. Those poisons could kill a Daemon without needing your God-like Psychic powers. I suggest we send a mission to Commorragh and get them. It would give us an insurmountable advantage against Chaos." The Emperor nodded, "I AGREE." Vulkan raised his hand, "I volenteer to lead this mission." He was granted permission and the daemons that pounded upon Khaines Gate renewed there efforts, fueled by something no Daemon had really felt before, the fear of death.

**It was then that the gates opened, and Konrad Curze stepped out of his chambers for the first time in decades. The Night Haunter looked upon the scene – the two dead Atramentar, the xenos and his son locked in an embrace that would soon see both of them dead – and smiled.**

**"Well done, my son. You do indeed possess the truth of purpose I had foreseen."**

**With a gentleness none would have believed him capable of, Curze pulled his son off the Eldar assassin and removed Talos' helm, revealing features distorted by veins bulging with the poisons running through them. With his own talon, the Primarch cut his own tongue, and let his rich blood flow into the mouth of the Apothecary. Whether due to the innate potency of the Primarch's vitae or the dark boons he had received since entering the Eye of Terror, the blood countered the poisons, and Talos took a deep, shuddering breath as the agony wracking body abated.**

Sanguinius looked away, the comparisons to the vampire like property's of his own geneseed undeniable and uncomfortable.

**Only then did Curze's black gaze turn onto the Blade of Ptesh, who was stirring on the ground. Talos moved to finish the xenos off, but Curze stopped him with a single raised talon, and instead knelt by the side of the alien as it regained awareness to find the dark demigod it had come to kill looming over it.**

**"Do not speak. There is nothing you can tell me that I do not already know. But rejoice, little creature : my brother will have a use for you, and therefore you will live beyond this moment."**

**With the capture of the Blade of Ptesh, it became clear to Talos that his Primarch had known about the plot to assassinate him all along, and had relied upon Talos to capture the xenos assassin once it made its move. As the xenos was locked into a stasis coffin, the Apothecary dared to ask his gene-sire why he had let things go this far. Not only had he himself come to risk – for the weapons the Blade had carried could have slain the Night Haunter had they been given the chance – but the Legion itself was coming apart as its two factions waged war, deceived by the machinations of the Blade's mysterious patrons. Again, Curze only smiled, and told his son that all would become clear in time.**

Seeing his own wording being spouted by a daemonic version of one of his sons troubled the Emperor.

**Outside the walls of the capital city, battle still raged between the Dread Lords and the Vindicators. The Talonmaster's strategic acumen had enabled his Traitor Marines to hold against the vastly superior foe, and the fields were littered with corpses, but now the Dread Lords were letting loose their greater monsters, having taken the measure of their foe. A parade of abominations was unleashed, and the Vindicators watched in grim determination as it approached.**

The abominations gave Lion some bad flashbacks to his childhood.

**Before contact was made, however, Curze appeared atop the walls. The Primarch blazed with eldritch power and inhuman charisma, and as one, the warriors and slaves of the Night Lords knelt before their liege. From the lowest of the conscripted damned to the Daemon Princes of the Dread Lords, all bent the knee – all save for Talos, who stood at his Primarch's side, his helmet replaced on his head, now adorned with a bloody rune traced by Curze himself.**

**The Darkness War was not over, Curze proclaimed : now it must be waged against the true enemy of the Legion. The rivalries and feuds of the Eighth had been used by outsiders, but this would be no more. The two aspects of the Night Lords would be united under his command, and together they would punish those who had sought to destroy them. At his word, the armies retreated, while the commanders of both sides were summoned to his palace.**

**Sat on his throne, Curze explained to the lords of his Legion the truth behind the explosion of the spire and the various acts of sabotage and assassination that had followed. He told them of the Blade of Ptesh, and how Talos – who now stood next to the Primarch's throne – had managed to stop it at the last moment. But this was not merely the work of xenos : the Blade had merely been an instrument, a tool in the latest move in the long-dormant Legion Wars.**

**The conspirators had woven powerful sorceries around the Blade, keeping Curze's second sight from locating the assassin and the rest of their plots on Kerlazium. Agents had infiltrated the ranks of the Eighth Legion's servants, arriving to the daemon world on ships come to trade for akhrali before slipping away into the darkness. With the assassin's capture and imprisonment, however, these spells had collapsed, and all was now revealed to the Night Haunter.**

**It was the Dark Council of Sicarius, or a faction of it, that had hired the Blade of Ptesh to throw the Eighth Legion into chaos and assassinate its Primarch. The Dark Apostles sought to avenge the humiliation inflicted upon the Word Bearers when Curze had brought Moriana to Sicarius, and the witch's words had broken the will of Lorgar. Constrained by the Aurelian's promise, the Word Bearers could do nothing against Moriana in revenge, but the Night Lords were not so protected.**

Everyone in the room gave a few thrones to the Tech Priest, who said "Make it rain."

**The Night Lords were enraged by this revelation, and loudly vowed vengeance against the Seventeenth. Smiling – a sight that still disturbed the sons of Nostramo – the Primarch assured his sons that they would have their vengeance. The Darkness War was not over : now was the time to teach a lesson to the Dark Council.**

**In the weeks that followed, as a vast fleet of Night Lords ships was assembled and prepared above Kerlazium and the agents of the Dark Council in the system were hunted down, Talos was ever at his Primarch's side. The Apothecary was now called by a new title, one that Curze had bestowed upon him years ago, but which the Legion only now understood : Soul Hunter, whose meaning was encapsulated in the Nostraman rune Curze had inscribed upon his son's helmet.**

**"One soul. You will hunt one shining soul while all others turn their backs on vengeance."**

**The prophecy of Konrad Curze to Talos Valcoran, during the Horus Heresy**

**Once the preparations were complete, for the first time since the Heresy, Konrad Curze led his sons to war in person. Enough forces were left at Kerlazium to defend it and keep up the production and trade of akhrali, but nigh on fifty thousand Chaos Marines were aboard a fleet composed of over two hundred ships. Mercenary warbands were contacted, and offerred substantial payments of akhrali to lend their might to the defense of the Night Lords holding while the bulk of their Legion exacted revenge from the Word Bearers. A lesser power might have been worried that these mercenaries would turn on the Eighth Legion and try to plunder Kerlazium, but the reputation of the Night Lords' Primarch, and the fact that all knew him to be a close ally of Horus, made such concernes uneeded.**

**The Eighth Legion departed the Horusian territories and launched a series of brutal raids on outposts of the Word Bearers and their allies. The discipline of the Vindicators was paired with the ferocity of the Dread Lords, a tenuous alliance enforced by the will of the Night Haunter. Strongholds were destroyed, cities were razed, and amidst the ruins were left the flayed skins of the agents captured on Kerlazium, with Nostraman runes written in blood upon the cured leather, forming oaths of dread retribution for the schemes of the Dark Council. When Word Bearers forces arrived too late to the aid of their ruined holdings, they found these skins, and learned of the scheme of the ever-secretive Dark Council – and of their failure.**

Lorgar felt a weird mixture of pride and horror.

**Curze led several of these assaults in person, slaughtering the sons of Lorgar with ease, his Soul Hunter at his side. The blood of the Primarch that Talos had drunk had intensified the strength of his visions, and though this caused him great pain, it made him all but impossible to defeat in combat. In the years to come, Talos' deeds during that campaign would cement his reputation as Curze's favored son, and he would serve as herald and representative to the Primarch in the Horusian Dominion and beyond.**

**In total, the Night Lords laid waste to twenty-seven systems, one for every agent of the Dark Council they had captured alive in Kerlazium. Their fleet moved fast, guided through the tides of the Eye of Terror by Curze, and all attempts by the Seventeenth to face them with a great enough force failed.**

**When the Night Lords finally declared their retribution complete and the Darkness War ended, many sons of Lorgar called for their own vengeance. But the revelations of the Dark Council's plot – and, more importantly, its complete failure – had sent fractures through the Legion. With Lorgar still isolated within the Templum Inficio, the Legion's leadership had fallen to the Dark Council, who had ostensibly focused their efforts on waging the Long War outside the Eye of Terror.**

**Hatred of the Ecclesiarchy had helped the Dark Council keep the Word Bearers under control after Moriana's Declaration, yet their failure – which was added to older whispers, regarding the arrival of the Fallen into the Eye, or the collapse of the Crimson Accords – was making many of their warriors doubt that they had the favor of the Gods. Curze's navigation of his fleet across the Eye's turbulent tide had shown that he had the blessing of Chaos, and many wondered if their Legion hadn't turned away from the Path to Glory since Lorgar had seemingly abandoned them.**

The tech priest said a statement that, while attributed to the Emperor, would see the salvation of many innocent and repentant lives, "even fanatics have limits."

**The Dark Council fractured as factions and plots began to form, with Erebus and Kor Phaeron forced to rely on one another to maintain their position as its head, something which caused no small measure of bleak amusement to those who knew the two had always hated each other. Daggers were drawn in the dark, and in the end, no coordinated effort was made against the Night Lords, though a few Hosts launched isolated attacks on Horusian territories. Many more sought to reclaim the favor of Chaos by intensifying their activities in the Long War, causing a dark age for the Ecclesiarchy as the agents of the Seventeenth redoubled their efforts all across the Imperium.**

The Emperor smiled as his least favorite of the traitor legions got what was coming to them.

**Meanwhile, as the retribution of the Eighth Legion and its consequences unfolded across the Eye of Terror and beyond, a single ship brought the stasis-locked Blade of Ptesh to Maeleum. For the first time since the Fall, an Eldar was on the daemon world, and was delivered to Horus himself by a squad of Atramentars sworn to absolute secrecy and obedience to their Primarch. Of the few who knew of this cargo, none knew why the Night Haunter had sent his would-be assassin to the Prince of the Eye, nor what the Warmaster of Chaos might want with such a creature.**

**"What … do you … want … mon-keigh ?"**

**"I want to offer you a job."**

As the vid file ended, Rogal let out a single phrase, "That can't be good." This time Perturabo didn't hit him.


	49. the lure of chaos

first off, i wanna say i am sorry for giving you guys a scare by not posting in October. i have a lot of things going on and i meant to post, but i didnt have the time. so heres the post for this month, the lure of chaos chapter 3, the only chapter of said fiction that interested me enough to have the imperial family and the tech priest review.

the lure of chaos was created by gardenerking

s/9334839/3/The-Lure-of-Chaos

* * *

The tech priest pulled out a new file and murmured, "Hmm, it seems to be damaged." The Emperor merely said, "PUT IT IN ANYWAY." The tech priest obeyed, and the video played, with a caption of chapter 3 showing beforehand.

**Eusev knew quite well what she was doing. Isolation was one of the most effective ways of breaking a prisoner. Human beings were social creatures by nature, and long-term solitude was simply unbearable for all but the strongest-willed of men. It took time, and therefore was not always an option when one had to break a prisoner quickly, but everyone broke under isolation eventually. Of course, she had nothing but time. As far as Eusev knew, no one but von Rothbardt knew where he was, nor would anyone miss him, at least not for a very long time. The Inquisition was a highly decentralized organization by design, and Inquisitors often dropped out of contact for years at a time. Nor had he informed anyone outside of his retinue of his plans or whereabouts, and, unless von Rothbardt had lied, the men of his retinue were all dead.**

Rogal noted, "it seems this file focuses on a member of the inquisition." Perturabo hit Rogal

**No, no one was coming to rescue him. Nor could he hope to escape, weak as he was. The door to the room, he could see from here, was not even shut all the way, much less locked. The windows were also left slightly ajar, so that fresh air and sunshine could come in. It did not matter. In his weakened condition, the door might as well have been on another planet, for all that he could hope to reach it. He could not even sit up straight.**

**At first, he had considered it a miracle from the Emperor that he had survived at all. He clearly remembered the tree branch going all the way through him, after all. As the days passed, however, he began to think that the Emperor might better have allowed him to die. He knew he could not hold out much longer. The bell on the nightstand was looking more tempting every hour.**

The Emperor shuddered at the phrasing of him as a god.

**The funny part was that he was suffering all this in the lap of luxury. She might have pled poverty for herself, but von Rothbardt clearly had wealthy "friends," by which Eusev could only assume she meant followers. It was hardly surprising, as he had originally been investigating a Slaaneshite cult among the nobility of this planet. As such, the bed was the softest he could remember sleeping on, the sheets the smoothest. Whenever he slept, which was often, he awoke to find that the tray of food on the nightstand had been replaced. He had grown up accustomed to eating reconstituted protein bars and soylens viridians, and in his travels for the Inquisition, first as an acolyte, then a throne agent, and finally as a full inquisitor himself, he had largely remained accustomed to mean fare. His captor's chef, or whichever chef she had borrowed, was a true artist, or so it seemed to him.**

The tech priest murmured, "The way to a mans heart is through his stomach."

**He considered pretending to sleep, and waiting to see who it was who was bringing the food. It might have been a mindless servitor, but if it turned out to be human servant, he or she might give him a chance to relieve the crushing solitude, and perhaps provide useful information, or more besides. But every time he closed his eyes and lay still, he soon found himself drifting off for real, hardly surprising, given his injuries. The one time he managed to stay awake for any length of time, almost two hours, if he could judge by the change in light through the window, no one came. Then when he awoke, a fresh silver tray was sitting on the nightstand.**

**Finally, he could take no more. Whispering "Emperor forgive me," he reached for the nightstand and rang the bell. He barely had time to wonder how long he would have to wait for her to appear when the door opened and she came in, wheeling a silver service cart of some sort. She was dressed in a different gown this time, this one a cream-yellow sundress. Her hair hung loosely down her back, swaying without any breeze, ripples of blue and purple running through her now-brown, now-blonde locks.**

The Emperor sighed at both the fact that he was a god in this future and that the inquisitor felt it was a sin to do what any human would do in that situation.

**"I'm glad you have finally seen sense," she said, as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you sit up? I should change the dressings on your wounds." With some effort and some help from her, he managed to sit up, and she started unwrapping the bandage around his head. She tilted his head forward and he felt her soft hand prodding gently on the bump on the back of his head. "Hmm, good. The wound is clean, and the swelling has almost all gone down. At first I was worried you might have a serious concussion, but it seems to have been nothing more than a mild bump on the head. The stitches can probably come out soon. With that, she took fresh gauze and began to rebandage his head wound, although she used a much smaller dressing this time.**

**When she was finished with that, she reached around him and began unwinding the bandages around his chest. Having her so near him had the same effect on him as it had before, and he resisted the temptation to move his hands a few inches so as to touch her body. She seemed totally at ease and not in the least bashful, although she could hardly not have noticed the effect she was having on him. "The good news is that the entrance and exit wounds are both clean. No sign of infection. They're both also scabbing over, though. I'll have to remove that or the stitches will be impossible to get out." She reached onto the cart for a bowl of water and a clean washcloth, and began patting the wounds, removing the scabbing as gently as possible. When she was finished, she took another rag and began patting the wounds dry.**

Magnus voiced what the room was thinking, "Are we sure she's a chaos cultist?"

**Once she had begun wrapping fresh bandages around him, he asked her "Why do you say it's good news that my wounds aren't infected? I would imagine you'd consider infection a gift from your…'Papa.'"**

**"Infection is a gift from Papa Nurgle. But so is health. And if you wish to keep enjoying that gift, you'll need a bath."**

Lorgar rolled his eyes.

**"You'll have to help me up then."**

**"Don't be silly. There's no need for you to strain yourself. I'll give you a sponge bath. We can talk while I do." With that, she picked up a large bowl from the cart and walked into what Eusev could only assume was the bathroom. There was the sound of running water, and then she returned, sat back down on the bed, picked up a sponge from the cart, and began to wash him. As she did, she asked "Have you thought about what I said before?"**

**"I have. And I am prepared to listen to you, and to answer your questions, but you must cease this pretense."**

**"Pretense? What pretense is that?"**

**"The pretense that you are the one on trial here, that you are the one whose life hangs in the balance."**

**"Does that mean that you've decided not to kill me?"**

**"It means that we both know that you have no intention of just letting me kill you. You're really trying to persuade me to join you, to betray my duty to the Emperor and follow Chaos."**

**"I try to persuade everyone who will listen to seek freedom, both spiritual and temporal, and to seek the truth and worship the true gods."**

Fulgrim made a "blah blah blah" motion with his hand.

**"And if you fail, do you expect me to believe that you are just going to let me go free, to hunt you down, along with your followers?"**

**"They are not my followers; they are my friends. And, as I promised you, you will have no need to hunt me down."**

**"You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little skeptical of your promise. Believe it or not, yours is not the first Chaos cult I've fought, and your…coreligionists do not, in my experience, just lie down to be killed."**

**"Oh yes, I'm quite familiar with the way some Chaos-worshippers choose to practice." For the first time she raised her voice. "Do you think we are all killers and torturers? Do you think I feel good at having kil—at having taken the lives of four men?"**

Angron yelled out, "YES!" and took some asprin.

**"I think you are a priestess of Chaos Undivided. I can only assume that that means you worship Khorne, to whom bloodshed is sacred. So yes, I would think you happy to have shed—what is the phrase—'Blood for the Blood God!'"**

**"You think you know so much. Yes, I serve Khorne, and yes, all bloodshed is sacred to Khorne. But not all blood is shed through killing, and not all serve Khorne through war."**

**"Really? So how do you serve Khorne, exactly? You wanted me to listen, well, I'm all ears."**

**"As a midwife."**

The room went wide eyed at this.

**He lay there, dumbfounded. She smiled, clearly enjoying the fish-like expression on his face. After several very long seconds, he found his voice. "'As a midwife?' You're not serious, are you?"**

**"Of course I'm serious. You do realize that women bleed during childbirth, yes? For that matter, you do realize that women undergo great pain, and no small risk of death, when they bring new life into the galaxy? I trust you are not totally ignorant of these matters. Wheresoever any mortal soul shows endurance in the face of pain, courage in the face of death, and sheds her blood for a cause, Khorne is there with her. As I, in my own small way, try to be, for those few whom I can.**"

Lorgar was conflicted at this, and Russ noted, "That might be true, but the chaos gods prefer more than just that. The galaxy wouldnt be in the state it is if that werent the case."

**"Well then, I shall have to alert my colleagues to begin an investigation into the midwives and nurses of the Imperium. Who knows how many heretics we'll uncover, thanks to the information you've just given me?"**

**"You would consign billions of innocent women across the galaxy to the flames of the Inquisition, for what? For what crime, exactly? For what harm done?"**

**"The crime of heresy, of course."**

**"Well, if you want to uncover Khorne worshippers, you had better investigate the Imperial Guard too. How many billions of soldiers, before they go into battle to face the enemies of your 'Emperor,' whisper prayers to Khorne? If you're not careful, you'll leave your precious Imperium defenseless against its real enemies."**

This got many of the primarchs worried. While the emperor hid it well, he was also worried.

**"Do you deny that Chaos is a real threat to the Imperium? Do you seriously deny that the Traitor Legions are a real enemy?"**

**"Only because you've driven them to it! Horus never betrayed the Emperor! Everything you think you know about the so-called Horus Heresy is a lie. 'History' written by the victors."**

**"So you implied before. So tell me, what really happened, if you know so much?"**

**"No. You tell me. When your father left you in charge of your brothers and sisters, you enjoyed having power over them, or so you told me. How did they feel about it?"**

**"Why don't you just tell me what you are getting at, because I think I already know."**

**"The younger ones were probably the most biddable, were they not? But the elder, the ones closest to you in age, probably resented having you in charge, didn't they?"**

**"And I suppose you mean to tell me that it was the other Primarchs who resented Horus' elevation."**

**"Some of them, yes. One above all others."**

**"Which one?"**

**"Come, you were doing so well. Can't you guess?"**

**"If everything I think I know about the Heresy is a lie, as you claim, how am I to guess? On the basis of what information?"**

**"What you've been told about the 'Heresy' is a lie. What you know about human nature, what you've learned as an Inquisitor, is not. Think. Which of your brothers and sisters most resented your elevation over them? The ones closest to you in age. The ones who saw themselves as rightfully your equals, or even superiors. The one who most resented the elevation of Horus was the one who thought that he should command his brothers. The one who thought that he was the greatest of the Primarchs, his legion the greatest of the legions."**

The emperor flared his power to ensure no chaotic lies entered the room, while also noting to review the horus heresy materials incase the cultist was telling the truth.

**"I see what you are aiming at, and—"**

**"The one who named his legion the Ultramarines."**

**"Nonsense. Roboute Guilliman did not resent Horus' elevation. Horus only thought he did."**

**"Really? According to whom?"**

**"All the historical accounts of the era say so."**

**"And who wrote those accounts? Which of them interviewed Horus to ask him what he thought Guilliman felt?"**

**"So how do you know what you claim to know? What accounts do you trust?"**

**"It's true, there are stories passed down among followers of the True Way. But I believe them because they make sense. The standard Imperial accounts, that claim that Guilliman did not resent Horus' elevation, were all written after the war, when Guilliman ruled the Imperium, and controlled the writing of the history. Doesn't it sound like the account protests a little too much? Why the need to emphasize that Guilliman did not resent Horus's elevation? Because he needed people to believe that he didn't."**

The tech priest muttered in binary, "He who protests to much."

**"So that's your evidence that Guilliman was the traitor and not Horus? Because he called his legion the Ultramarines and said that he never resented having to obey his brother? Is that all you have."**

**"There's more. Do you know the story of Guilliman's early life, how he came to rule Macragge before the Emperor came?"**

**"I'm sure you're going to tell me it's all lies, but he was adopted by one of the consuls of Macragge, Konor Guilliman, and grew up to be a great soldier."**

**"Go on. What happened then?"**

**"While Roboute was leading an expedition to bring the barbarians living in the wilderness areas of the planet under the control of the government, Konor's co-consul, Galan, led a rebellion to seize power for himself. Konor led the defense of the Senate house personally, and held off the rebels, but was badly wounded in the process. Eventually Roboute returned to the capital from his expedition, learned what was happening, defeated Galan and his rebels, and raised the siege of the Senate. Konor Guilliman died of his wounds, and with Galan also dead, that left Roboute in sole control of Macragge. So what?"**

**"Really? You don't see? Leaving aside how convenient it was that the lawful consuls just happened to eliminate each other while Guilliman was out of the city, do you really not see that that's the exact same story as the Horus Heresy? Change the names Konor, Galan, and Senate house to Emperor, Horus, and Terra, and it's the exact same plot. Or perhaps I should say the exact same scheme. You don't find that the least bit hard to swallow?"**

Many eyes turned with suspiction to Guilliman.

**"Even if I were to accept, for the sake of argument, that that were too much of a coincidence to accept, how could Roboute Guilliman have arranged it? How could he just happened to know that Horus would rebel and attack Terra, and how did he arrange his arrival just in time?"**

**"I already told you, Horus never rebelled. It was Roboute Guilliman and his cronies, especially Leman Russ and Sanguinius."**

Magnus was shocked, "Ok, russ i understand, but Sanguinius?" Russ let out a "Hey" but didnt press further.

**"Sanguinius! Now I know you are lying. Sanguinius was Horus' best friend. Why would he join a conspiracy against both him and the Emperor?"**

**"He didn't, not against Horus, at least. As for why he betrayed the Emperor, Roboute tricked him."**

**"How?"**

**"Do you know who the Thunder Warriors were?"**

**"Yes. They were the Emperor's first genetically modified super-soldiers, used to win the Wars of Unification on Holy Terra."**

**"And what became of them?"**

**"The last of them died in the final battle of the Unification."**

**"Yes, but what really happened?"**

**"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." The expression on his face made it clear he knew exactly what she meant.**

**"Surely you don't mean to say that the truth is unknown to the Inquisition? The Thunder Warriors were betrayed and murdered by their own creator, once they had fulfilled their purpose."**

**"How did you know that?"**

**"Few secrets can hide from a seeker after truth. But you already knew what became of the Thunder Warriors. And the Primarchs knew it too. How they found out, I'm not certain. Some say that Konrad Curze saw it in one of his dreams, and told his brothers. Others say that the Emperor simply let them know, as a not-so-veiled threat. The important thing is that they knew, and they knew why. Do you?"**

This convinced the room that the cultist was lying. After all, the Emperor had told them about the Thunder Warriors when explaining the drawbacks of slapdash genetic engineering.

**"Because the Thunder Warriors were created only for war. They could not function in a society at peace. Once Unification was achieved, they themselves became a threat to the new order they had built."**

**"Getting Sanguinius to turn on his master was simple. Guilliman had somehow discovered the existence of the Blood Angels' Flaw, and that, outside the Blood Angels and himself, only Horus knew of it. He met with Sanguinius, and told him that Horus he had learned of the Flaw from Horus, who had revealed to him that he had also told the Emperor. Guilliman also told him that the Emperor had decided that, with the Great Crusade winding down, the time had come to eliminate those Legions whose propensity toward mutation made them unsuitable for the new, peaceful future that was coming. He had already begun by sending the Space Wolves to destroy the Thousand Sons. Of course, it was Guilliman who had sent Russ, his chief co-conspirator, to do away with Magnus and his Legion; the Emperor had nothing to do with it."**

Sanguinius was ashamed that in yet another universe his legions gene flaw had resulted in his fall.

**"I still don't believe you. Why would Roboute Guilliman and Leman Russ want to do all this? Surely they were not in thrall to Chaos!"**

**"Do you think a man must worship Chaos to be a traitor? I already told you that billions of loyal Imperial citizens secretly worship Chaos. Does it not follow that one who worships tyranny and oppression could be a traitor?"**

The tech priest murmured, "Sad, but true."

**"That still doesn't explain why they did it."**

**"Guilliman did it for the reasons I already told you. He resented that Horus had been raised over him, and, more fundamentally, he resented that anyone was above him. He wanted to rule the galaxy himself, as he had earlier wanted to rule Macragge. It will not escape your notice that he succeeded in both cases, and by essentially the same stratagem."**

**"But why would Russ help him?"**

**"Because he hated psykers. That part of the false history is quite true. That made it easy for Guilliman to persuade him to attack Prospero."**

**"But why would he want to betray the Emperor?"**

**"Didn't you just hear what I said? Why would you think a man filled with burning hatred for all psykers would make an exception for the mightiest psyker of them all?"**

Gazes were levied agaisnt Russ, who responded, "The Emperor beat me fair and square. thats what matters."

**Eusev was quiet. "I once heard it said, back when I was still an acolyte, that the forces of Chaos tempt men to corruption not only with lies, but also with terrible, maddening truths. I see now just how true that was. Part of me can't stand to hear what you say, but that is because I see how much sense it makes. Your tale has the ring of truth, but that truth is a burden too hard to bear."**

**She leaned over and stroked his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his brow. "Eusev, I don't wish to hurt you. Believe me, I have never wished to hurt anyone. But the truth is not terrible, and it is no burden. Just the opposite: the truth will set you free. It is the lie that enslaves you."**

**"Please, just finish your tale."**

**"There is not much more to tell. Sanguinius believed that the Emperor was about to move to destroy him and his Legion, so he decided to strike first. He gathered his entire Legion and immediately set out for Terra. He arrived and attacked without warning, overrunning most of the outer defenses quite quickly. When Horus and the other Primarchs heard, they were shocked, but Horus immediately gathered all the forces he could, and set out for Earth to raise the siege. He arrived too late to stop Sanguinius from murdering the Emperor, but he ordered an attack on the Blood Angels, who now held the Imperial Palace."**

**She stopped speaking for a moment and took a sip of water before continuing. "Much of the account of the battle of the Imperial Palace is basically accurate, except inverted. The Blood Angels really were defending the Palace against the attack of Horus. The vast majority of the Mechanicum supported Horus, of course; it is hardly credible that the Fabricator General himself and most of the tech-priests on Mars would turn traitor practically under the Emperor's nose, although that was the story that had to be told later. Likewise, Guilliman and Russ would later give out that the reason the Emperor was never seen during the battle was that he was trapped on the Golden Throne, holding the portal closed against the daemons of the Warp. Horus really did kill Sanguinius, although on Earth, not aboard the Vengeful Spirit. Nevertheless, the battle continued, with both sides sustaining heavy losses."**

**"Just then, the Ultramarines and Space Wolves arrived. Horus thought they had come as reinforcements. His men cheered when they saw them landing. Then Guilliman attacked. His and Russ' Legions were the hammer, and the Blood Angels still holding the Palace were the anvil. They killed Horus and slaughtered most of his forces. The survivors fled, to the one place in the galaxy where they could be sure they would not be pursued, the Eye of Terror. With Guilliman now firmly in control, he could order the Astropaths present on Terra to spread whatever story he liked to the rest of the Imperium. He used his own betrayal of Horus on Terra as the basis for the tale of the 'Drop Site Massacre.'"**

**"The rest you know, more or less. Guilliman propped his father's corpse up on a yellow chair, and told the rest of the galaxy that he had ascended to godhood. The man who had tried to destroy all religion was now to be worshipped himself. Perverse, but he knew that claiming to rule in the name of this new god would grant him greater legitimacy than simply ruling on his own authority. He created the Inquisition, originally to hunt down anyone who knew the truth or might guess it, although he spun a tale that Malcador had created it at the behest of the Emperor. And that was that. Guilliman ruled the galaxy. As a gift to Russ for his help, Guilliman banned almost all use of psychic powers; of course, he claimed that the Emperor had so ordered at the Council of Nikaea, a totally fictitious event. That, incidentally, was why he claimed it occurred on such an isolated and unsettled world as Nikaea—a place that made no sense as the location for an important conference—since that would explain why no one had heard of this before. Not that it was all that difficult to get most people to believe it, as most people hated and feared psykers, then as now."**

**A heavy silence hung in the air between them after that. Finally, Eusev spoke: "As I said, everything you say makes logical sense. The story has the ring of truth, and you are right that the received history makes no sense. But how can you be certain that you are right? Is this just the received history among the followers of Chaos? Did you just piece this together based on what seemed logical to you? What proof do you have?"**

The Emperor noted, "THAT IS WHAT MAKES CHAOS CULTISTS SO DANGEROUS. THERE RHETORIC IS CLOSE ENOUGH TO TRUTH THAT EVEN ONE WELL VERSED IN FIGHTING CHAOS CAN BE DECIVED."

**"I can give you proof, if you will let me."**

**"What proof is that?"**

**"You know why the Emperor left the Great Crusade and returned to Terra?"**

**"To work on the Imperial Webway project. He had only finished a small section of it before Magnus—"**

**"Before Magnus what? Broke it? Eusev, the section of Webway the Emperor built is still intact. It has been for ten thousand years. It is possible to travel, in spirit form, through the Great Ocean, to see it. I will teach you the sorcery needed to do so, if you will let me. That is my proof."**

**"I—I must think on that. It's not that—it's just—I don't know if—"**

**"Relax. It's not a spell that could be learned in one night anyway, and if you do wish to learn sorcery, we should wait until you are fully healed. For now, I imagine you must be tired and hungry. I certainly am. If you'll excuse me for a while, I shall go prepare dinner. I hope you've been finding my cooking palatable."**

**"That was your cooking? I assumed that whoever lent you this house lent you his chef as well."**

**At this, she smiled, for the first time since she came in the room. "Eusev, I told you, we are alone in this house."**

**"You also told me that you owned only that one grey dress, and yet here I find you wearing a yellow one."**

**"I did not lie. The owners of this house do let me raid their closets. As I said, I have generous friends. Now shh, rest, let me go cook."**

**Later, after an excellent dinner eaten in companionable silence, as Medeana put his tray back on the service cart, Eusev found himself drifting off to sleep. It would not be untroubled.**

The tech priest summed up everyones thoughts, "Maybes its for the best that this file was damaged."


	50. the angel war 1

happy thanksgiving peoples, heres a special holiday treat, the introduction of zahariels the angel war.

heres the link to the original.

The Roboutian Heresy Chapter 55: The Angel War - Introduction, a warhammer fanfic | FanFiction

The Roboutian Heresy - A Warhammer 40K alternate universe | Page 309 | SpaceBattles Forums

sorry for any spacing errors.

also, alternate magnus interupting a commenter is gonna be a running gag throughout my angel war coverage.

* * *

The excitement was palpable in the room as the tech priest inserted the holodisk, as all wanted to know what would happen in the Roboutian heresy universe now that the Emperor was dead. The real Emperor was very proud of his counterpart, sacrificing himself to save humanity and defy the Chaos Gods.

**Chapter 55: The Angel War - Introduction**

**In the Sanctum Imperialis, most sacrosanct location of all the Imperium, the Throneroom where the Emperor had sat for ten thousand years, Magnus the Red screamed. His brothers rushed to his aid, but only Lorgar could reach the Crimson King, for his scream was psychic rather than sonic, and only the Urizen was shielded by the corona of golden power that spread from him as a barrier.**

**Omegon, whose schemes to elevate the Emperor to true godhood had turned to dust before his eyes, was sent flying by the uncontrolled power of Magnus. Physical shock briefly replaced the emotional trauma of failure as he smashed against the opposite wall, his body held in place for a second before he fell and crashed onto the floor. Despite the suddenness of the flight, it was not nearly enough to wound a Primarch, but Omegon remained on the ground, his mind trapped in a cycle of abject shock and self-recrimination.**

Omegon looked distressed at the lengths he would go, while Alpharious comforted him.

**Lorgar was not so distressed, though tears also ran on his golden face. Perhaps Aurelian had suspected his father's true intent, perhaps his own doubts regarding Omegon's plan helped him to adapt quickly, or perhaps his care for his brother overcame his grief for his father. The golden Primarch knelt by his pained brother's side and placed his hands on Magnus' head, reaching out with his own psychic abilities to establish communion with the lord of fallen Prospero.**

Magnus and Lorgar shared a glance.

**The Throneroom rippled with the power of the two psychic demigods. The Sword That Was Promised, its blade now marked with golden filigrane where the dust of the Emperor's mortal form had coelesced upon it, was still embedded into the first Throne. It glowed fiercely, casting its radiance upon the three Primarchs.**

**Slowly, Lorgar's assistance and the Sword's light lightened Magnus' torment, and the scream of the Crimson King ebbed. Yet the one-eyed Primarch, sat upon the auxiliary Throne linked into the mind-blastingly complex machinery of the Throneroom, was still in immense pain.**

**The Throneroom shook. No, realized Omegon as he wearily raised his head. Not the Throneroom. The Palace shook. Something … something had happened, something outside these walls.**

**"Go, Omegon !" shouted Lorgar, his hands still resting on Magnus head, his gaze locked with his brother's as the two strained together. "I will remain here and assist Magnus. Terra needs you !"**

**Omegon ran. He ran through the Cavea Ferrum, passing through the ancient labyrinth built by Perturabo to secure the Golden Throne. He ran past the shocked Custodians of the Companions, who had fallen on their knees before the sealed gate. On instinct, he clasped the shoulder of one such warrior as he passed and hauled him to his feet, some corner of his mind recognizing him as the Captain-General, one who would surely be needed in whatever was to come.**

**Despite the tumult of his thoughts, his steps were sure, for he had long studied the shifting corridors of this final and greatest of defenses. It would not have done at all, if he had gotten lost on the last stretch of his journey to help the Emperor …**

**The Emperor …**

**No. He pushed the thought away. The time for grief had been cut cruelly short, but duty called. He could not afford the luxury of wallowing in his mistakes. Now was the time for action, and perhaps he would be able to find penance in that. The Lord of the Hydra did not know what peril had befallen the Throneworld, what manner of nightmare had come in the wake of the Emperor's choice to reject divinity. No signal could penetrate the Cavea Ferrum, designed as it was to lose anyone within it, but there were sounds coming in from the outside, echoing impossibly across non-euclidian geometries. Some of the Cavea Ferrum's entrances led all over the Imperial Palace, each one secret and guarded by the Adeptus Custodes.**

Already Perturabo was mentally making the plans for the Cavea Ferrum.

**There were screams, and the sounds of battle. It was a music Omegon recognized all too easily.**

**War had come to Terra.**

The room turned grave at this.

**The Terran Crucible**

**Part Three : The Angel War**

**The Emperor, who guided Humanity from the shadows for two hundred thousand years and ruled the Imperium for ten millennia, is dead. In the end, despite all the machinations of the Ruinous Powers, the Master of Mankind went to His death willingly, embracing it as both relief from His age-old torment and as the only path He could see that granted His people the slightest chance of surviving the Times of Ending. The Gods of Chaos, whose existence is defined by selfishness and evil, could not comprehend such a choice – and therefore couldn't predict it. But beyond the madness of Chaos lies the terrible sanity of the truly damned. One of the Dark Gods' chosen foresaw the Emperor's choice, for he, too, made the same terrible decision, leading to his fall from grace. Now, as Light's End falls across the galaxy, an old enemy rises anew, casting aside his disguise of lies to claim the throne that is rightfully his …**

The Emperor gave a proud smile at his counterparts actions, but also wondered who had expected this. what chaos champion had retained there sanity?

Then Magnus's voice rang out on the vox system playing the record.

**I can hear them, brother. Billions of souls, screaming, burning … singing.**

**The echoes of every psyker sacrificed to the Astronomican in order to keep the fire lit, to preserve our father's life … They are all here with me. The psychic children of Humanity, burned as kindling to light the endless dark. A gruesome sacrifice made in desperation, souls spent to fuel the great engine at the Imperium's heart.**

**Yet something of them remains in the machine, in the light.**

**Was this intended ? Is this one final mercy, or an additional torture heaped upon our father by a cruel Fate ? We know so little of the Throne, brother. Even I, who was intended to sit upon it before it all went wrong.**

**The silent scream is ended. We will speak to you now, brother.**

**I … We … see …**

**Six and six and many more, the designs of the Dark Prince's champion unfold wherever the light of Sol touches. Two six-fingered hands close around Humanity's throat.**

**The hour is late, brother. Midnight has come, and it is not yet written that we shall see the dawn.**

**The sky burns, and the void is alight with madness. Reality is torn, and nightmares come spilling into the cosmos from the broken Kingdoms in Heaven.**

**There is a hand at play here. The Ruinous Powers can scheme, but only through champions, for what is a God if not the sum of its worshippers' beliefs and actions ?**

**We see the war begin. We hear the first movement in this symphony of ruin. It is all too familiar a tune.**

**See what we see, brother !**

**Moments after the Emperor's demise, the powers He had held at bay for ten thousand years were unleashed across Sol. All of the Ruinous Powers were caught unaware by the Emperor's willing acceptance of His death, but one of their servants – one, among all the uncounted hosts of the Lost and the Damned – had foreseen this possibility. And now, as his dread scheme unfolded, the very foundations of Terra shook.**

The room was silent, wondering who this servant of Chaos was. A likely suspect was Sanguinius, but the roboutian sanguinius was insane. so who could it be?

**Millennia-old spires toppled and burned, and entire sections of hive-cities collapsed as foundations that had endured an age of overcrowding and poor maintenance failed. The mere beginning of the Angel War killed billions before the first shot was fired. As panic spread, cargo ships bringing the endless supply of foodstuffs and materials required to keep the Throneworld alive broke from their appointed trajectories, fleeing into the void and dooming billions more to starvation.**

**The Astronomican, that psychic beacon that had guided Imperial ships through the tides of the Warp since the Great Crusade, flickered and faded as the Crimson King struggled to channel its awesome power. Across the galaxy, tens of thousands of ships were lost as their Navigators suddenly found themselves deprived of Terra's guiding light. Many of those were destroyed almost at once, their Geller Fields overwhelmed by daemonic hosts, but others managed to survive, beginning odysseys through the lightless depths that would last for years or more.**

**The Tower of Heroes, atop which rang the Bell of Lost Souls, cracked and fell. Its ancient bell, which had rung more and more often in recent centuries, each peal mourning the loss of another Imperial Hero, shattered into pieces as it hit the ground.**

The shock of the sights silenced any comments any of the Imperial family might have had. the tech priest couldnt really react either.

**On six locations across Sol, powerful daemons of Slaanesh emerged. Not since the Heresy had Terra been defiled by infernal creatures, but now no less than four Exalted Keepers of Secrets manifested upon its soil, brought to incarnation by sorcery and sacrifice. On Mars, the great abomination N'Kari rose from the Haydesian Kingdoms, reborn from its defeat at Magnus' hands as a Soul Grinder. And on Pluto, the nightmarishly powerful entity known as Zerayah sang its song of ruin and madness, drowning the planetoid's surroundings in horror.**

**Six times six unholy rituals, guided by six of the Dark Prince's favoured servants. The sacred numerology of Slaanesh acted as a beacon of its own, an anchor for a Ruinous great work. The unleashed energies of the Empyrean poured into the arcane structure laid down by cultists of the Angel and the Blood, and reality was torn asunder.**

**With the sound of reality ending, a great rift in the fabric of space opened, stretching from Pluto to Venus. The eldritch radiance of the Warp bled from this wound in the Materium, burning in the skies of every world in the Solar system. Even the sides of the planets which were on the opposite side of the system's sun felt the rift's opening, and their own skies were alight with reflected madness.**

Sanguinius wet at the devistation of the solar system.

**In the first minutes of the rift's opening, tens of millions went mad, their minds shattered by the psychic outcry. From the Terran hives to the orbital outposts of Venus, riots erupted as Imperial citizens unleashed their fear-driven rage on anything resembling a symbol of authority. Cults that had lingered in the shadows of the Throneworld for centuries were joined by hordes of mad and broken souls as they took to the streets, raising the banner of rebellion and Ruin. The psychic genus erupted, turning thousands of citizens into Warp bombs that detonated, drowning entire districts into the raw stuff of the Empyrean, transforming millions more into deformed, insane mutants.**

Angron honestly felt no pain from the nails. It was as of even the unholy arcane device implanted in his skull was sicked by the devistation.

**We see the cultists of Slaanesh. The broken and the deluded, the lost and the damned. Oh, brother, can you hear their cries ? They are doomed, whether their master wins or loses this war. They will perish in purifying flames or be bled to appease appetites that can never be sated.**

**We see their hiding places, now that the veil has been pulled away. Lairs of depravity and sacrifice, where each of the Imperial commandments is broken every day. Generation after generation, a plague seeded on Terra when last angels danced amidst the ruin that would be Humanity's pyre. The watchers in their towers hunted them down, purged them with fire, yet always more appeared. Terra is an old world, and there are too many shadows where the Slaves to Darkness may hide.**

**The people of Terra are so tired. Tired of being powerless, of being exhausted, of being terrified all the time. They fear the monsters in the dark, and those who hunt those monsters. The Imperium of this age is not a kind place. What is duty to someone who is the third generation of their family to stand in a line, carrying a request for relief supplies from a world long since lost to famine ? What is faith to the mother who watches her dead children being carried away into the organic recyclers ? The cogs of the empire crush flesh and soul alike, and the echoing whispers took root in that fertile soil. To someone who has nothing, excess can look like paradise.**

**They think that they carry blades as a sign of defiance to their uncaring tyrants – breaking one more meaningless edict. It is more than that. Blood calls to blood calls to the Angel. We see a crown of glorious madness flickering at the edge of possibility, obscured by the smoke of the burning future.**

**Pity the Lost, brother. There is no saving them, not if the Throneworld is to be preserved. And so they must be crushed once more beneath necessity's boot. Again and again, the champions of Humanity are made to slaughter those they were made to defend.**

**Do you hear the Dark Gods' laughter ?**

All of the primarchs were saddened by this. Even those who held themselves as superior to normal humanity were moved to tears by this alternate Magnus's words. The tech priest cried tears of oil, and as the Emperor wept a few tears he could hear the laughter of the warp tumors that called themselves gods.

**Those few who looked upon the skies and managed to retain their sanity all came to use the same name for it. Even as war and devastation were unleashed across Terra on a scale not seen since Guilliman's rebellion, that name spread like a memetic plague. None would ever manage to pinpoint its origin, but soon, anyone speaking of the blasphemy that had sundered the heavens did so using the same name : the Tear of Nightmares.**

**From this Tear came daemons uncounted, walking down paths of broken stone and Warp energy as they descended upon Humanity's cradle. The Neverborn children of Slaanesh entered Sol, called forth by the greatest of their kind in the name of their Dark God's chosen champion.**

**Psykers who had endured the trials of soul-binding and the years of training within the Astra Telepathica's facilities went mad, turning their powers against themselves and those around them in violent outbursts before being put down like rabid dogs. Even those who clung to their threadbare sanity suffered immensely, babbling meaningless words and crying bloody tears.**

**Since the days of the Great Crusade, Terra had been protected from the infernal by the Emperor's presence, His aura radiating from the Throne and falling upon the world like an all-encompassing shroud of telaethesic protection. Such wards had been limited to the Imperial Palace during the Heresy, but over the ages since, the light of Him on Earth had suffused the entire world.**

The Emperor mentally swore to create these wards that would cover the entirity of Terra, even should he die.

**Yet now this hallowed protection was gone. With the light of the Astronomican flickering and the all-crushing power of the Emperor scattered to the cosmic winds, the old evils rushed back in, like a tidal wave after the dam finally breaks.**

**Scattered across Terra were the remnants of eras long gone and forgotten. As the baleful radiance of the Tear of Nightmares fell upon these forbidden ruins, things that had laid dormant since before the birth of the Imperium stirred awake. Seals laid down in the Age of Strife by shamans seeking to contain the horrors unleashed upon Old Earth by mad sorcerers eroded to nothing. Relics that had been held in Imperial shrines after being brought from some far-off battlefield suddenly convulsed within their stasis fields as the infernal entities that had been bound within them in ages past by far-seeing Sorcerers sensed the shift in their surroundings and emerged in their dark and terrible glory.**

The Emperor's comments, no doubt to order some minions of his to reinforce his wards upon said sealed away horrors, were cut off by the alternate Magnus's voice.

**We see the Neverborn. The Daemonettes, the Steeds, the Fiends. Those are the familiar forms, given strength by the Lost and the Damned. When so many know that these are the aspects of the Dark Prince's children, belief becomes reality, and unrelated sins aggregate into the same shape.**

**The gates of the Silver Palace are open, and the numberless hosts of the Youngest God pour forth.**

**Are they all here ? Oh, no, brother. Not all of them. The legions of Slaanesh are as numerous as the sins of mortals, and while Terra is certainly drenched in many ancient evils, there is another place where the hand of the Dark Prince reaches.**

**There are other kinds of daemons, not seen in the Materium since long before our father launched His crusade. Ancient spirits, that were made to kneel before the Dark Prince when he rose from the Eldar's downfall. They were forgotten, in no small part thanks to Father's efforts, their tales and legends banished from living memories one pyre of proscribed texts at a time. But though this denied them the opportunity to walk amidst the stars, they did not vanish – and they did not forget.**

**As their power waned, their spite only grew. Now the Tear of Nightmare yawns open, and the energies of the Empyrean flows out in an unchecked torrent that calcifies around these forgotten stories, giving them new and horrifying shape.**

**We see the Satyrs, lingering echoes of Terra's long-dead wild places. Spirits of freedom and abundance, of indulgence and joy, turned into monsters with horned heads, cloven feet and eyes that burn with unrestrained hunger above bestial leers. Once they were little gods, now they are scavenging daemons, feeding off the scraps that fall from the Dark Prince's table.**

The tech priest hmmed and said, "It makes sense that the satyrs are daemons of Slannesh, when you think about it."

**We see the Carrion-Eaters, rising from the wastelands where once armies led by madmen made war. They are the product of the Age of Strife, left behind by the Imperium and buried along with so much of its past. They are the madness of Old Night, drawn from the Empyrean and wrought into flesh by the witches of that most terrible of ages. When the fools who thought themselves their masters perished, they were left behind, to feast upon the mountains of corpses they had made. Now they rise once more on stick-thin limbs, look upon a world full of life, and lick gravestone-teeth.**

**We see more, many, many more. There is so much evil on Terra, ancient and slumbering, awakened once more at the dawn of this Age of Nightmares.**

**The hosts of Chaos descended upon Sol, and unleashed their vile hungers upon its people. Entire hives were lost as scenes of horrors echoing those of the Siege of Terra unfolded. The continental megacities of Merica were among the most afflicted : standing on the other side of the world from the Imperial Palace, they were where the presence of the authorities was weakest. Hundreds of Slaaneshi cults rose in open rebellion, joining with the Neverborn hosts descending from the heavens or manifesting amidst the madness and bloodshed. The ancient proscription against spilling blood on Terra was cast down, and numberless horrors rose from pools filled with vitae.**

**But Terra was not defenceless, even amidst the chaos of Light's End. The Throneworld was home to billions of Astra Militarum soldiers, household troops sworn to the noble Terran lineages, and Adeptus Arbitesenforcers, with even more having been brought in as part of the Alpha Legion's preparations for the Emperor's ascension. Armies that had been on parade moments ago reacted quickly, moving to secure locations from which they could hold back the tides of Ruin. Imperial Guard Regiments fought alongside Sisters of Battle and Space Marines of all loyal Legions, shouting orders and oaths over the dim of war and insanity.**

**Their fight was not without hope, for even as the tide of darkness seemed poised to swallow Terra whole, sparks of light ignited to fight it. Upon the death of the Emperor, the tremendous psychic power accumulated through the prayers of trillions of souls for thousands of years had been released, imbued with the Master of Mankind's own radiance and scattered across time and space. Though this had not been their purpose, the schemes of the Alpha Legion had ensured that many suitable souls were on Terra at Light's End, and dozens of Living Saints emerged from the ranks of Terra's defenders and population.**

The Emperor honestly didnt know how to feel about the living saints. He was about to state as such when the alternate Magnus started to speak again.

**We see the Living Saints. They rise across the stars, each carrying within them a shard of aborted godhood. Their souls burn oh so bright, with the fire of passion, of outrage, of love – and the pieces of our father's broken power are drawn to that blazing light. Like calls to like, it has ever been so.**

**And so they rise, haloed in golden light, bringing wrath and salvation alike. Daemons recoil before them in fright, for even the least of the Neverborn remembers the light of He whom they called Anathema.**

**We see them on Terra, here and now, from those Omegon gathered to help shape the god he sought to create. We see Sisters and Guardsmen, standing firm against the tide of Chaos, bringing hope to desperate battles. We see priests and leaders, the spiritual guides of communities that have lived in filfth for thousands of years, holding in their hands the Emperor's own light as they battle to protect their own.**

**Deux Ex Machina ! But they are not invincible. The cosmos we inhabit does not allow such easy happy endings. We see them fall, cut down before they can come into the fullness of their inherited power. Our father was never the sole author of this play, and the remaining four playwrights delight only in horror and tragedy.**

**Across Terra, Humanity fought against the monsters of the Outer Dark. The hordes of daemons and cultists seemed without number, but again and again they broke against the walls of Imperial fury and discipline. Pockets of order, of sanity, started to emerge amidst the desolation.**

The Emperor smiled at the resilience of humanity. Even in the face of his demise they still carried on.

**Then broken angels began to rain down from the burning skies.**

Rogal noted, "Things just got worse." Perturabo hit him

**We see the Tithed Ones. The sons of our lost brother, stolen from the galaxy as their homeworld burned and they rushed through Hell to save it. They burn as they fall, broken beyond mending, looking at the universe through lenses of torment beyond imagining.**

**We see the twisted weapons they clutch in clawed hands, desperate for the sense of familiarity they bring. Guns and blades, taken from their ships along with them, and remade in the forges of the pit just as they were. We hear the tormented cries of the weapons' machine-spirits, their loyalty and purpose broken with such pain that they long to inflict it upon the world around them.**

**We see them rise from the craters of their descent, and look upon the world their ancestors bled to save. They do not see what we see. They see only shadows cast by the flames of their pain, only the knives of their tormentors and the faces of their nightmares. They are trapped within the prison of their own minds, and in that state they return to the one thing they know best : they fight.**

**We see Diomedes. He flies where his brothers fall, on wings whose every feather is one of the torments that were visited upon him. In his hands is the weapon he stole from his captors, now bound to him as he is to the very Power he sought to defy. In the darkness where they were remade, death was no release to the stolen sons of the Phoenician, brother.**

Fulgrim wept at the sight of his broken sons.

**They fell from the skies in the hundreds, like the discarded children of a cruel god. In the pit of the Laers' moon-ship, the stolen sons of Fulgrim had been remade, forged through madness and torment into their own dark reflections. The pain of the fall was the last part of that dreadful transformation, hammering together the alloy of Chaotic corruption and the shattered psyches of the Emperor's Children. What rose from the craters of their descent had just enough resemblance left to the warriors they had once been for the denizens of Terra to know true horror at the sight.**

**Only one of these Tithed Ones did not fall to Terra as a meteor, but instead descended upon the Throneworld like the herald of the coming apocalypse. Once, he had been Diomedes of the Emperor's Children – now, for his heroic defiance of the Dark Prince, he had been rewarded with a special damnation. Six wings the color of blood spread from his back, each feather of a subtly different hue. Like the other Tithed Ones, his flesh had merged with his armor, its color that of a fresh bruise gilded with the gold of coins used to purchase slaves in Old Earth's Antiquity.**

Fulgrim contiued to weep for his sons.

**In his hands, he held a living spear, with a monstrous eye where the blade met the haft. His head was a parody of a Space Marine's helm, with curved horns, two blazing eyes, and a mouth opened in a perpetual scream that heralded the coming of the End.**

**And along with the Tithed Ones came the ones that had made them what they were : the Laers, a xenos race destroyed during the Great Crusade, then resurrected by the machinations of the Dark Prince and turned into his instrument.**

Fulgrim was about to comment about the Laers when the Alternate Magnus interupted him.

**We see the Laers. We see the broken chains in their blood, placed there by their creators when the Children of Isha ruled the stars. They were made to be living toys, their flesh reshaped by their masters' whim – but when those masters vanished, swallowed by the maw of Hell, they rose to build an empire the only way they knew how.**

**The Phoenician destroyed them, but his treacherous son resurrected them, eager to plunder the secrets embedded in their genetic code. The head of the Consortium that did this was careless, and did not realize the trap it had fallen into until death came for it, wearing the face of its greatest creation. Some sins, or rather some mistakes, are too vile even for the Primogenitor.**

Fulgrim looked offended at the implication that Fabius Bile had standards, and for some reason a small spider-bug let out a cheer of agreement.

**Through the traces their armada left in the cosmos, we glimpse the Laer Empire, rebuilt in the dark places. A realm of horror and genetic perversion, where the people and the technology are almost undistinguishable. Every Laer is bred for its purpose, from the unholy priests of their Goddess to the pulsing brains that serve as their ships' cogitators. Their entire existence is a prayer to the Lord of Sensations, their births, lives and deaths all given to it.**

**It turns out that a species can be born into damnation, if its creator is cruel enough. No trace remains of the Laer tongue : they speak in the language of daemons now, mixed with fragments of what Gothic sounds like when hissed through a serpent's mouth.**

**We see their monstrous ship, looming at the center of their armada. They took a moon and hollowed it, planting the seeds of their evil into the tunnels. We see … It hurts ! We cannot see clearly. There is something there, something vile and potent, something the Laers brought into being and fed with centuries of worship. There is pain, too, so much pain. This is where the Laers murdered the Third Legion. And at the bottom of it all, at the center of the moon, we see …**

**A pit is a maw is an eye is a hand is a grave …**

**We look away.**

**We hear the crackle of energy and the noise of reality's laws being broken. Once before were these sounds heard in Sol – when the green maw opened wide, and almost swallowed the galaxy. Even a beast can have a stroke of brilliance, once every few million years, brother. Scavengers picked at the carcass of the green tide, and brought their plunder to the Laers as a gift. But who ? We cannot see !**

**We see the horde, scattered across Sol by the same secrets that brought the Laers here. These are the nightmares of Old Night reborn. For the first time since Father's rise, alien predators stalk the surface of Terra.**

**We see the warrior-caste, born to know joy only in murder. Their serpentine bodies, covered in a thick exoskeleton, stand tall as our sons. Their blades have teeth, their guns laugh as they spit out spines coated in venom. Soldier and weapon are of the same species, bound by something that would be love, if the Laers were capable of such a thing.**

**They are not. None of their makers had any interest in giving it to them**.

This line facinated the real Magnus, who just murmured, "Makers?"

**We see the priests. Each one is unique, their senses reshaped to honor a particular aspect of their Goddess. Some are nothing but hungry maws, others thousands of unblinking eyes. They should not live, let alone move, and yet, by the dark artifice of Chaos, they do. Not spawns of madness and ruin these, brother, despite their grotesque appearance. They think, they feel, and they pray with enough strength that the Warp around them overflow with all the Neverborn their every thought creates.**

**We see the torturers, standing on great pain engines. They were the ones who broke the Tithed Ones, and their work is not yet done – not until all of Humanity is one, eternal scream of agony. Their servants bring them still-living captives, who are swallowed whole by the monstrous machines of flesh and metal. They hurt, they die, they live again, over and over, until they break and give in. What took weeks to break the sons of Fulgrim sunder Terrans in mere hours at most. Only then do the chains holding their bodies release them. What need do the torturers have of those, when they have successfully shackled the soul ?**

Rogal answered the retorical question, "There cruel." This earned him another slap from Perturabo.

**We see the stalkers, flying high on membranous wings. They plunge from the skies, burying their fangs into exposed flesh and injecting poisons that melt organs and introduce soul-breaking ecstasies in their victim's final moments. In ancient times, human shamans dreamt of flying serpents doing the bidding of the gods : truth, metaphor, or a warning cast back through time from this very moment ? We do not know. All we hear are the stalkers' laugh, a cruel, hissing sound that resonates amidst the Warp-lit pollution clouds that choke this world.**

**We see the sorcerers. Alone of their xenos breed they walk on four legs, beasts with minds sharp as broken glass. Their six eyes see into what is not, and force it into the minds of their preys. We hear the screams of a factory worker seeing a blood-soaked monster smile at him with his own face, while Terra burns around them both. The sorcerers are heirs to the vengeful curse of the Dark Prince, spinning echoes of that false reminiscence. Know this, brother : the Laers did not have psykers among them when their first empire burned. Even then, their makers knew better than to give them such potential. The mad genius who resurrected them spliced the gift in their genetic code, inspired by the whispers that had guided him to the site of their first birth.**

Jagathai snarled out a phrase, "Damn Knife-ears." For indeed, who but the eldar at there deplorable highest could make such monsters as the Laers.

**We see the nobles, whose bodies were blessed with the reborn soul of one of the Third's victims. It was they who led the attack on the Children's ships, them who stole the descendants of their murderers away, to be broken and remade. Their scales are white as ivory, and their eyes glow with a kaleidoscope of vile colors. Their disgustingly human hands hold great spears and swords, greatest of their flesh-crafters' art. Their lower bodies, clad in flayed Legionary skin, slither on the broken stones, leaving behind them furrows of blackened, corrupted earth. Alone of the new Laers they remember their species' first death, and flavor the brew of their sensations with an old, old hate.**

**As the Tithed Ones fell and the daemons of Slaanesh descended, the other servants of the Dark Prince made themselves known. In flashes of light, the Laers teleported from their fleet in the outer worlds, appearing in small clusters all across Terra and the other worlds of the Sol system.**

**All across Sol, cultists, daemons, Tithed Ones and Laers rampaged, seeking to drown the Throneworld in madness. And at the vanguard of this horde of Ruin came the strike forces of Slaanesh : six Exalted Keepers of Secrets, whose coming had completed the ritual that had opened the Tear of Nightmares, and six warbands of Chaos, seeded through the Sol system by the Sanguinor to accomplish specific tasks.**

**And so began the Angel War.**

Sanguinius was about to ask why it was called the Angels war when Alternate Magnus interupted him.

**We see the warbands of Chaos, harvested across the galaxy, each a weapon forged by the Dark Prince's whims into a shape suited for a specific task of this war. Six there are, branded with an aspect of the Profligate One's madness. We smell the sins of these sinister six, seeking to sunder the Imperium's strength. The Empyrean howls of their deeds, of their might. They all walked different paths, but all led them here, with the brand of Slaanesh on their souls and a chain around their neck. We see the glint of golden armor, and hear the beating of great wings. For all their strength, the warbands are but pawns, pieces in a greater game – the Great Game.**

**But whose hand moves them ?**

**We see the Exalted Keepers of Secrets. The favoured slaves of Slaanesh, the courtiers of Excess. Hollow beauty and empty sensation, without any true emotion behind pleasure or pain. Six were called, midwives meant to rend the void and usher forth the Angel's kingdom. They do not cry, but their coming heralded the Tear of Nightmares. Hear their names ! Kyriss. Yria. Kalith. Kanathara. N'Kari. Zerayah. Exalted servants of the Youngest God, elevated over the rest of the beings we call Greater Daemons of Slaanesh. Fragments of the narcissistic deity that Isha's children spawned when they turned from the teachings of Asuryan. Four on Terra, one one Mars, and one on Pluto.**

**But whose will leashes them ?**

**Stay with us, brother. The Angel War begins. We hear its name – we hear the clarion call – we hear the screams of those yet to die. The future burns. Light's End is here, and in the darkness none can see clearly. Yet the question must be asked :**

**Why do we call it the Angel War ?**

The video ended on that troubling note.


End file.
